


The Land of Firsts and Seconds

by loserchic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU Farming, Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Forced Marriage, M/M, Marriage, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Political AU, Rancher Derek Hale, Senators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 72,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserchic/pseuds/loserchic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Marry me." Derek says. "Come on, you stubborn asshole! Give me one good reason you shouldn't marry me." </p><p>Stiles is a transient single omega in times of political change and social upheaval. When new 'Omega Protection Laws' are passed Stiles is forced to choose between being mated or sent to government omega camps until he can be assigned a mate. Frightened, Stiles returns home after nine years of having no one and nothing to call his own where he reunites with his childhood best friend, alpha Derek Hale. Derek is now a pillar of the community and a wealthy land owner with a wife and a young daughter. With the passing of the new laws Derek offers to take Stiles as his second wife to save the omega from a life of uncertainty and danger. Stiles reluctantly agrees and now he must come to terms with his new place as the lesser wife of a powerful public figure, and all the unfinished business between him and his former best friend. All Derek knows is after years of confusing estrangement, Stiles is back and he doesn't want to ever loose him again. But can Derek keep Stiles when the omega knows deep down he'll always be second in Derek's life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Awoken from Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after not enough sleep, too many weddings, and watching the Christmas episode of Girl Meets World. Then I watched a lot of Boy Meets World. JUDGE ME. (And enjoy).

_“For thou hast touched my five senses and they answered thee_  
_Now I am nothing and I sink_  
_And on the bed of silence sleep till thou awakest me” - William Blake_

While he doesn’t know why he’s stayed away so long, it isn’t because he doesn’t have good reasons. As Stiles stands outside in the cold, staring at the shining mahogany doors of the great house on the Hale compound, he finds himself once again unable to articulate one single definitive reason for his nine year long absence from Beacon Hills and his life long best friend’s life. Instead, Stiles feels such a conflicting tempest of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be here and all the reasons he should have come much sooner roiling in his gut all he wants to do is turn around and get back in his jeep. Stiles has told himself the same thing over and over the last nine years, the same thing he repeats to himself now: the reasons to keep himself away, to stay busy, keep moving, to not go home and not expose himself to the doubtlessly warm scene waiting behind those cheerfully inviting doors far outweigh any responsibility his history and his past friendship with Derek might carry with them. Still, Stiles is here now, and he knows despite the laundry list of perfectly logical, though at times confusing, reasons he shouldn’t be- he also knows it is probably nothing short of a miracle he’s been able to stay away from Derek and this place so long.

The thing is, Stiles absence has nothing and at the same time everything to do with Derek and the things the alpha has done. Since their meeting the first day of Stiles’ first year at Fairest Academy, at a mere five and seven years of age, Derek has been the best friend and, at times, the only friend Stiles has ever had. Despite their age gap and the jarringly obviously differences in their genders, the legendary friendship, the brotherhood of Derek and Stiles had been something of an institution throughout their entire academic careers at the private school. It hadn’t mattered to the two mischievous children that one of them- Derek, was the classically alpha son of a prominent senator and Stiles was an orphaned omega with few opportunities and no real resources to call his own, who had been taken in by a distant and mostly absent uncle and was attending Fairest on a diversity scholarship. They had simply bonded in some effortless and illogical way all those years ago. From day one at the prestigious academy Stiles and Derek had been each other’s shadows. It was common knowledge among the student body and the faculty that where one was, the other- and chaos, was sure to follow. As an innocent child Stiles had failed to see anything unusual about the fact that big, dark Derek Hale was his best buddy. He hadn’t understood why teachers and parents would often give the alpha/omega duo strange looks as they cavorted carelessly around school. All Stiles had known as a kid was that Derek made him laugh until he actually squirted milk out his nose like a cartoon character and the alpha never made fun of him behind his back and Derek always had these great ideas for what they should get up to in the woods on the weekends. Beyond that Stiles had failed to see what the big deal was. They were just Derek and Stiles. That’s just how it was.

And they had gone on like that for over a decade. Derek and Stiles. Stiles and Derek. Two guys making each other laugh, doing their homework together, getting in trouble, having great childhood adventures on the extensive grounds of both Fairest Academy and Derek’s family lands. And it had been great. Ridiculously idyllic even. And Stiles had been too young to know just how unusual and precious what he and Derek had was- and how quickly it all could change. How it would change. In the end it had been Derek who had changed first, and at the same time it had been Derek who kept insisting in his stubborn alpha way on acting like everything was the same and always would be. The alpha is two years older than Stiles. He had grown tall and broad first, filling out his impressive muscular frame in a way Stiles, as an omega, would never be able to follow. Derek’s voice had also changed over one hilarious summer of cracking hiccups until that autumn it had matured into a completely humorless deep rumbling baritone. Stiles’ had gleefully made quips about the alpha turning into Darth Vader anyways. As the pair became older teens Derek’s responsibilities began to catch up with him and what had once seem like inconsequential social differences became more and more like obvious insurmountable societal caverns to Stiles. All of a sudden Derek had state dinners to attend and started spending more and more time with Talia Hale, his mother, learning about business and negotiation and how to manage the responsibilities of running large groups of people and money. Rumors and speculation flew around Derek like the birds that swooped in and out and around the alpha’s family's vast agricultural fields. By the time Derek was sixteen it seemed to Stiles that every weekend some senator or business mogul was touting their omega daughter or son out to the Hale grounds to play tennis or have brunch with Derek and his family. Derek was growing up and into his role as a prominent alpha in society, and Stiles wasn’t stupid. He’d come to realize even as a fourteen year-old kid that inevitably, Derek's growing up would mean Stiles' best friend would come to grow away from him.

Through it all Derek’s devotion to their friendship never waned, however. As the more cautious, the more perceptive of the two of them, Stiles kept pretty close tabs on how things were progressing. Derek still came over and threw rocks at Stiles’ window at night so they could take the boat out and fish by moonlight, and Derek still skipped out early on debutante balls to ride his bike over to Stiles’, still wearing his tux, his shirt tails hanging out in the breeze. They still tackled each other in the mud and called each other every dirty name in the book. They still had horror movie marathons in Derek’s basement. They still threw popcorn into each other’s mouths and they skipped class to do nothing behind the bleachers at school. But Stiles knew Derek better than Derek’s own mother, so he knew denial was just Derek’s way of coping with things the alpha wasn’t prepared to talk about. Derek had never been great with change. As a typical alpha through and through, Derek had never been great with things he couldn’t personally control. Stiles is an omega with no real parental guidance and no social connections or trust fund to fall back on. Stiles started dealing in reality at an early age. Stiles knew Derek was changing and it didn’t matter that it wasn’t Derek’s fault and it didn’t matter what either of them wanted. It simply was.

So Stiles had kept helping Derek bake laxatives into cupcakes meant for the dean of students, and Stiles kept making Derek those disgusting bacon and peanut butter sandwiches the alpha liked so much, but somewhere along the way Stiles stopped talking about the future with Derek. He stopped talking about his dreams and his plans the way they had when they were little kids. He stopped telling Derek places he wanted them to visit and things he envisioned them doing together when they were grown. And in Stiles' mind, he put away the idea of Derek and Stiles. If there was no more Derek and Stiles, he wouldn’t miss what they had when Derek left for good.

Naturally, Derek didn’t seem to get the memo. The big idiot had the typical alpha knack for seeing the world the way he wanted it. He had always thought Stiles was smart, inspite of or perhaps because of all the trouble they’d gotten into over the years. With no real parents at home, and an abundance of energy it had always been hard to Stiles to focus on school. Derek had pushed him through it- sometimes it seemed through the sheer force of his optimistic alpha will. Derek had believed in Stiles more than he’d believed in himself, and for all the truancy he’d let Stiles talk him into, it had been Derek who had stayed up quizzing Stiles all night, and Derek who had talked him through trigonometry and honors physics. Derek has always told Stiles if he graduated, Derek would take him to Vermont to see the leaves change. And all the pushing paid off. Stiles had graduated early at sixteen. Derek was eighteen then and had bought the vast properties that bordered his parents’ equally large estate from their neighbors. On the night of Stiles' graduation, Derek told him he was engaged. They never went to Vermont. Stiles hadn’t stuck around long enough to see Derek renege on his promise. He’d hopped a plane three days later and had come home very rarely since. He hadn’t even attended Derek’s wedding. He’d flown a red eye to Shanghai simply to have a plausible excuse not to be there. Still acting as if nothing had changed between them, Derek had called half a dozen times hoping Stiles would change his mind. Each time Stiles had put on a big fake smile and laughed a big fake laugh and graciously declined. In the end Derek had said he understood and life had gone on. Cambria came next. Derek had married the polished blond omega son of a former Governor of Arizona. A well bred, reserved finishing school graduate named, Ryanne. Of course Ryanne had fallen pregnant almost immediately after they’d been married and Derek soon had a bubbly, baby alpha daughter, Cambria Talia. He’d wanted to make Stiles the godfather, despite that position being usually held by an alpha. Derek had sounded so hopeful and elated, Stiles had ended up coming home for the Christening for all of thirty hours before flying off to Maine. He hadn’t held the baby. He could barely bring himself to look at it.

And yet here he is now, outside of Derek’s picturesque home on Christmas Eve. The home Derek shares with his lovely wife and beautiful daughter. Cambria would be nine now. Derek had set down roots here. He has a large home that reeked of everyday life and home cooking and laundry and family game nights. Derek was a pillar in the community in his own right now. He has parent/teacher conferences on week nights and a usual side of the bed where he climbs in next to Ryanne every evening, and a bathroom where they have matching toothbrushes. And Stiles...

This will be the first Christmas in nine years Stiles wouldn't be celebrating alone in some hotel room. Stiles has a well worn suitcase and an assload of frequent flyer points. He as a collection of photographs without people in them from places he’s been. There’s never anybody the to take pictures of in his travels, and he can’t bring himself to make a stranger take a picture of himself, alone next to some historic building or monument. Stiles has no reason to stay in one place for long. He just has a million reasons not to go home. But Stiles also has a best friend who keeps emailing him, who keeps asking him to spend the holidays back in Beacon Hills. And some days it feels as though Stiles is still the skinny runt back in prep school and Derek is all he has, so he’s here. Stiles squares his shoulders and knocks on the gleaming door, carefully arranging his face into a smile.

A tall, muscular man opens the door and grins at him. “Stiles? We almost thought you weren’t going to show. Come on in out of the cold, man!”

“Boyd,” Stiles grins back at Derek’s overseer, stepping into the warm, polished foyer of the great house. “Good to see you.”

“It’s been too long!” Boyd says. “I couldn’t believe it when Derek said you were coming. He’ll freak when he sees you. He’s been like a kid waiting for Santa all day long. He’s been driving us all crazy.”

Stiles’ smile tightens a bit as he takes in the glowing marble and polished mahogany of the foyer of Derek’s grand house. It’s decorated to the nines for the holiday. Garland over flowing with berries and wide silken ribbon is wound around the banisters and twinkling lights shine from every bright corner. Ryanne is clearly a gifted homemaker. He’s made the house look like something out of a luxury magazine. The succulent smells of roast turkey and fresh cookies fill the air as the light sounds of laughter and Christmas music floats in from the formal living room.

“How are things around the farm?” Stiles asks Boyd, unsure if ‘farm’ is the correct word for Derek’s multi-million dollar agricultural operation.

“It’s going great.” Boyd says, leading Stiles towards the sounds of the festivities. “Growing all the time, if you can believe it. It’s like there isn’t enough hours in the day for Derek and me. It’s been insane around here. We took on fifty more hands over the last quarter. It's like we can't keep up with the demand.”

“I’m sure.” Stiles nods politely. All of a sudden he can’t think about anything because he's stepping into the warm, glowing living room and he's suddenly surrounded by the scents and faces of the people he loved most throughout his childhood. The large room is beautiful- grand and homey at the same time. An enormous Frasier Christmas tree sits in one corner covered with glass ornaments and ropes of festive beads and berries. There is a roaring fire in the grate and the mantle is strung up with milky hand crocheted cashmere stockings. A large, ornate wreath hangs above them covered in glittering pine cones and faux cardinals. Everywhere mugs of hot chocolate, eggnog, and spiced cider sit scattered around on ornate end tables. On one end of the room a large table sits still perfectly made up and untouched with fine silver and china and a beautiful centerpiece of candied fruit. And Derek... Derek is sitting on one of the plush sofas, engrossed in a picture book with Cambria sitting next to him. The alpha has aged since Stiles last saw him- and it looks good. Where Stiles has lost weight and grown thin and sallow, Derek looks positively enormous next to his little girl, all muscle and restrained power from years of over-seeing operations on his properties. The alpha is smiling down at his daughter, wearing a cream sweater that perfectly accentuated his strong dark features. He looks perfectly mature and in control and at home here surrounded by his family and close friends and Stiles feels something sharp and aching tugging inside of him, something he's been trying to ignore, trying to swallow for years as he looks at his best friend. It is something like longing but also a lot like grief.

Ryanne is leaning over the sofa, his perfectly coiffed blond hair down close to Derek's dark head. Stiles can hear him saying in an irritated, hushed voice, "Derek, everyone is starving. We need to eat. The food's getting cold."

"Not until Stiles gets here." Derek says back in an equally quiet, yet final tone. "Don't be rude."

"Derek, it's almost eight o'clock!" Ryanne hisses back. "He's not coming."

"He said he'd be here." Derek insists stubbornly.

It's this unwavering and completely characteristic loyalty on Derek's part that makes the aching part inside Stiles bleed a little more. He's been gone so long. Perhaps he shouldn't have stayed away for so long after all. Stiles can't stay still any longer. He silently sidles over to where Derek is turned on the sofa, engrossed in his wife, and casually sits down next to the alpha.

"Gee, Derek." Stiles says with feigned flippancy. "I thought you'd be more excited to see me."

The alpha's whole body whips around in half a second, turning away from Ryanne and Cambria to gape at Stiles. Derek's glowing eyes light up even more until they're shining brighter than the Christmas tree lights. A lot of bodily contact between an alpha an an omega is still considered taboo to most people, but Derek doesn't seem to care.

"Stiles!" Derek positively shrieks in a very un-alpha-like fashion, throwing his enormous arms around Stiles, half-smothering the smaller man in what feels more like experiencing a car crusher instead of a hug. The alpha pressed Stiles tightly to his hard, warm chest, squeezing him tightly and not letting go. Derek's familiar firewood and musk scent is all over, in the air Stiles is sharing with his best friend and its familiar aroma fills Stiles with vague feelings of home and safety- two ideas foreign to him as an adult. It's almost as if Stiles whole being breathes a sigh of relief as he luxuriates in his best friend's embrace. He barely registers Derek's triumphant yell to the room at large, "I told you he was coming!"

Derek isn't letting go and God help him, Stiles isn't pulling away either. Derek had never really left Stiles, even throughout all of the omega's travels. When there wasn't a day that went by where Stiles didn't think of Derek, didn't want to turn and share something funny with his old friend, or just have him around to help pass the time, Stiles thought for sure he'd understood how it was to miss Derek. However, as Derek and he clung to each other a whole new kind of pain surfaced as Stiles realizes how he how much he needed this, and how much he probably always will.

"Um.. Derek, don't you think Stiles is hungry?" It's Ryanne's voice, tentative and yet strangely sharp. "I know your daughter is. Cambria- tell Daddy you're hungry."

Derek finally pulls away, still beaming. He looks down at the sullen nine year-old, seemingly oblivious to her pout. "Say hello to Uncle Stiles, Cambria." Derek says enthusiastically. "You remember your godfather, right?"

Cambria makes a face. "Sorta."

"Er.. uh. Hi there." Stiles says lamely in the child's direction, self-consciously looking away.

"Stiles!" Laura, Derek's statuesque older sister is up from her perch across the room greeting him now warmly. "It's so good to see you."

"Yeah." Stiles nods. "It's been a long time, Laura."

"You're just terrible for not coming home to spend the holidays with us until now." Laura teases. "And look how thin you are! Derek- do you see this?" Laura makes a disapproving maternal noise and Stiles flushes, not used to the attention. "He looks positively ill! Derek, why didn't you tell me he was getting so thin?" She demands of her brother.

Before Derek can answer Stiles puts up a hand, "I'm fine, Laura. Really. You know I've always been on the wimpy end."

Laura looks unconvinced, she frowns in the same stubborn alpha way Stiles remembers from their childhood.

"Wimpy, yes." Derek's younger sister, Cora snips, coming up to Stiles on the couch, eyeing the omega keenly. "But you also used to look like a mammal."

"It's good to see you too, Cora." Stiles laughs.

The petite alpha leans down near Stiles conspiritorally. "You hungry?" She asks.

"Yeah, actually." Stiles shrugs.

"Good luck with that." Cora mutters, rolling her eyes over to Ryanne.

"I'm standing right here!" Ryanne says, clearly exasperated with the whole situation.

Stiles stands up and plasters a lukewarm smile on his face, turning towards the evening's hostess. "Hello, Mrs. Derek." He says, reminding himself aloud that Ryanne is his best friend's wife and he needs to treat him that way.

"Stiles," Ryanne nods, and Stiles can feel the other omega's eyes roaming over him, taking his inventory surreptitiously.

Derek doesn't seem to notice. He has the biggest smile on his face as he stands in front of Stiles and Ryanne. "Look at the two of you!" Derek practically crows. "Does it get any better than this? My favorite person in the entire world... and my wife!"

Derek doesn't seem to notice anything particularly strange about what he's said and just keep grinning like a dumb maniac, but Stiles and Ryanne awkwardly look down and away from each other.

"Where's Talia?" Stiles finally says, clearing his throat and looking around the room.

"Mom is in an emergency senate meeting on the hill." Laura supplies. "It's all this noise over-"

"Federal Ordinance 24601." Stiles finishes in a low voice and a cold silence descends upon room. Stiles takes a deep, slow breath in as he notices peripherally how everyone in the room is looking at him.

Laura is the first to straighten and put on a cheery smile. "She won't let it happen, Stiles." Laura assures him with the kind of confidence only a beautiful alpha can muster. "My mother has fought this thing tooth and nail and there's no way she'll let them pass that abomination into law."

Stiles looks up at her with grave eyes. "Talia's a strong woman and a good senator, but she may not have a choice. The the right has everyone scared and the whole of the country is rallying around conservative family values right now. That's just the way the tide is turning." Stiles looks down, his face tight. "These radical politicians have the alphas all worked up that if they don't return to archaic, backward-ass ways of doing things the omegas won't be around the raise the next generation, crime will rise, and society will crumble. And a lot of people believe them. A lot."

"It's bullshit!" Cora mutters angrily, her bright eyes flashing. "They can't just do this to a whole group of people- take all the unmated omegas of birthing age and round them up like animals. Force them into camps for 'for their own protection'... it's evil! I can't believe that 24601 will ever pass."

"A lot of people don't see it that way." Laura frowns. "There are a lof of alphas out there who genuinely believe that only alphas have the skill set and the strength of character to lead, and that they have a God-given responsibility to control and dominate the omegas who are capable of giving birth. For them it's an issue of public health and safety."

Stiles swallows, all of a sudden he's not very hungry.

"Well, it's wrong!" Cora insists defiantly. "And even if those miserable old idiots manage to pass the ordinance, we're not going to let anyone take you, Stiles. Right, Derek?"

Derek frowns from where he's standing at the head of the decadent table. "I dislike all this talk of politics at the dinner table." He says with an air of absolute finality. "My best friend is spending Christmas with me for the first time in forever. We should be celebrating, not stressing him out." Derek claps Stiles on the back and ushers the omega to the chair to the right of the alpha's place at the head of the table. "I had them make the potatoes just the way you like them- with cream cheese." The alpha grins down at him, taking a seat. The others quickly follow suite. Ryanne stiffly takes a seat on Derek's left, directly across from Stiles.

"This looks... great." Stiles tries to say with any kind of conviction, nodding to Ryanne. A few chairs down the table, Cora chokes on a bite of roast turkey, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you." Ryanne nods, looking over fondly at his husband. "My roast turkey is Derek's favorite. Right, honey?"

Derek grunts in response before looking back at Stile and saying brightly, through a mouthful of food, "Hey Stiles, you still moving around a lot?"

Stiles shrugs. "Sure. A lot more states keep passing 'omega protection laws.' I got to keep ahead of them."

"They don't have them here." Derek nods, smiling.

"Yet." Cora mutters darkly.

Derek pretends not to hear his younger sister. "I've always said there's plenty of room here and more than enough work to keep even you from getting bored. Why don't you come stay with us?"

Stiles rolls his eyes and sighs. "This isn't a TV show, Derek. And I'm not your wacky neighbor."

"But you could be!" Derek says brightly.

"You're deranged." Stiles mutters, but can't help cracking a grin anyways.

"Yeah, I am." Derek snarks back. "I'm friends with you." Derek grins back like a child and before the two them know it their smiles have widened into stifled laughter and then they can't help themselves. They're laughing like maniacs at each other for no good reason and it feels so good.

"Dad, you're acting all weird." Cambria complains, wrinkling her nose in the perfect imitation of a teenager.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Cam." Laura says to her niece, smiling. "Weird is how your dad really is deep down inside."


	2. Chapter 2: The Way Forward

It's late at night and they've finished eating. Stiles is sitting on the couch next to Derek and their thighs are touching. Cora is upstairs with Cambria trying to coax the little girl into her pajamas, and Boyd had gone back to his home to call his fiancee. Ryanne sits on the love seat across from them for a while, but is continuously getting up to fidget around the room, straightening decorations, moving around throw pillows, and checking his reflection in the mirror. A few moments ago Laura had gotten a call on her cell phone from her husband who was helping out her parents in DC and she had scurried quietly from the peaceful room to take the call. 

"God, look at you." Derek smiles lazily down at Stiles. "I've missed you so much."

Stiles swallows, a lump in his throat. He can't say the words back, aloud or he'll loose it completely. Instead, he just looks down and nods. They sit like that for a moment.

"You know," Derek starts quietly, his low voice overly casual. "Laura said you weren't going to show."

"Oh yeah?" Stiles swallows.

"Yeah." Derek nods. "She seems to think there's something like... wrong."

"Really." Stiles says, noncommittal.

"Like between the two of us." Derek continues carefully. "Like you were upset with me or something. She says that's why you've stayed away so long."

"What gave her that idea?" Stiles asks.

"I don't know." Derek huffs and shrugs his broad shoulders. "You know how Laura is. She's neurotic. I told her everything's great between us. I always knew you'd come. You wouldn't leave me hanging like that." Derek grins down at Stiles. "We're awesome."

"Of course we are." Stiles nods readily. "We're always awesome."

They settle back into a companionable silence for a moment before Derek opens his mouth and says hesitantly, "Just out of curiosity, why haven't you come home before now?"

Stiles shrugs, forcing his movements to be easy, casual. "Been busy.” A beat of silence. “You've been busy too.” Stiles offers. “Your wife and your kid. I'm surprised you noticed I've been gone, actually." Stiles laughs stiffly. "You've been distracted since you got married."

Derek looks genuinely offended. "I have never been distracted."

Stiles turns and looks incredulously at Derek. "How long have I been gone?"

“A while?" Derek shrugs.

"Nine years." Stiles says flatly. Derek snorts and Stiles rolls his eyes. "You know what, Derek? Forget it. It's fine. Everything changes. That's the just life." Stiles shifts on the couch under the guise of stretching, but when he rests back again, he's no longer touching Derek's warmth.

"No, it isn't." Derek says, rounding on Stiles.

"What?" Stiles asks, subconsciously folding his arms in front of his chest.

"That's not the way it is... or was- or whatever!" Derek says vehemently. "The only reason why things changed is because you left, Stiles. Not me- you! Nothing had to change between us. We could have still been Stiles and Derek." He stares Stiles down with an intensity that Stiles had forgotten. "We still could be Derek and Stiles. We still could have it all-"

"What all?! Do you even hear yourself when you speak-" Stiles interrupts hotly, feeling himself growing exasperated in a way only Derek could ever make him.

"Derek." Laura's bloodless voice interrupts their spat and the two men turn to see her standing in the doorway of the living room with an ashen face, one shaking hand still gripping the phone, Ryanne standing slightly behind her. "That was Mom. It passed."

"What?!" Stiles is instantly up on his feet, feeling his own blood draining from his face, praying 'it' isn't the 'it' he thinks it is.

"Federal Ordinance 24601." Laura says, moving numbly into the living room with Ryanne behind her, as if in shock. "Mom says there was nothing she could do. They already had the votes they needed to pass it before the special session even started." She turns to look at Stiles and the whole thing feels like a scene out of a nightmare. "Stiles," she says woodenly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault..." Stiles starts to say, but all of a sudden he feels a little weak on his feet and the room is beginning to swirl.

All of a sudden Derek’s calming scent is there and his large warm hands are anchoring Stiles, securing him. “What does this mean?” Derek demands in a low voice. “What’s going to happen?”

“You read the ordinance, Derek.” Laura says through slitted teeth. “Just like I did. You know what this means.” 

“No...” Derek breaths, shaking his head, in shock. “They didn’t-“ 

“Mom said it passed the way it was written. No changes.” Laura says, her hands trembling. “Everything we read in there is going to be law. The camps, the government sanctioned forced matings for omegas of birthing age... everything.” Laura looks up into her brother’s eyes. “Derek, they’re going to come for Stiles.” 

“No.” Derek repeats. “They can’t- are they insane?!”

“You know the senate and every other branch of government is mostly alphas!” Laura says. “The president signed it into law two hours ago.”

“They don’t mean Stiles.” Derek says, blinking as if he can’t wrap his head around what his sister is saying. “He’s perfectly capable-“

“Of being mated and raising babies to keep the wartime economy going.” Laura finishes. Her voice sounds dead. “That’s all they care about.” 

“Stiles is a person!” Derek insists, his fist tightening to bruising strength around Stiles’ arms.

“Stiles is a 25 year-old unmated omega.” Laura says. “He is in the prime, target demographic for this law and you know it Derek. They keep lists of omegas. They have social security numbers and fingerprints and medical records. They’ll take him, Derek. They’ll assign him a mate-”

“No.” Derek says, shaking his head as if trying to clear the last few hours. “No! They can’t-“

“When?” Stiles finds his voice, quietly and effectively breaking whatever alpha tantrum Derek and Laura are headed towards. Both alpha stare at him. He clears is throat, trying to bring everyone back to the facts of the situation. “How long do I have before it takes effect?” 

“New Years.” Laura says hollowly. “They’re going to start looking for the omegas after the first of the year.” 

“Then I have time to get out.” Stiles says, quickly calculating a million different exit routs in his head. 

“You can’t just leave-“ Derek starts. 

“You can’t get out.” Laura says. “There’s no getting out. Mom says they’ve closed the boarders. They’ve revoked all single omega’s passports. They’re trying to ‘contain all the assets’.” 

Stiles feels himself sink down back on to the sofa. He barely registers Derek’s warm hands and presence following him down. 

“This is crazy.” Stiles says more to himself than anyone else. 

“So that’s it then?” Laura is blinking at her phone as if it holds the answer. “They’ll just take Stiles with the rest of the unmated omegas after New Years and there’s nothing we can do?” Her voice breaks. “Has it really come to that?”

“No.” Derek says, his voice strong. “No. That’s not going to happen.”

“Derek be reasonable.” Stiles says. “Are you even listening to what’s going on?” 

“Yeah, I listened.” Derek says. “I heard that they’re taking all the unmarried omegas.” He turns and looks at Stiles. “You don’t have to go.”

“What are you even saying?” Stiles asks incredulously. 

“I’m saying marry me.”


	3. Chapter 3: A Dysfunctional Proposal

"What?" Stiles' eyes narrow and he turns around so that his whole body is pointedly fixed on Derek, staring him down, positive one of them has gone insane. 

 

Derek takes a step towards him, looking down at Stiles intently. "Look- this law only applies to unwed omegas. They can't touch you if you're married." Derek keeps talking like this is the most obvious thing in the world. "So marry me." 

 

Yes, one of them has definitely gone crazy, and it's totally Derek. "You have a wife!" Stiles practically spits. 

 

"So?" Derek says. 

 

"So?!" Stiles stares open mouthed at Derek before glancing over to where Ryanne stands, stonefaced, before turning back to his idiot best friend. "So have you gone completely mental?!"

 

"A lot of alphas have more than one wife." Derek reasons calmly. 

 

"But not you!" Stiles sputters. 

 

"No, but most of our family friends, my business partners, the other members at the club are all married to more than one omega." Derek says calmly. "Nobody is going to think it's weird if I take another wife." 

 

"What about Ryanne?" Stiles throws his hands up, looking at Derek's wife with an accusatory stare. "I bet you think this is pretty fucking weird!"

 

Ryanne face remains unreadable, he's looking over at his husband with a mild expression. 

 

"Ryanne knows how much you mean to us." Derek says calmly, walking over to stand next to Ryanne as if they're discussing fucking brunch. "You're family to us. He doesn't want anything to happen to you either."

 

Stiles stares at Ryanne as Derek looks down at his wife expectantly. "Of course not." Ryanne says after a beat. "Derek would never forgive us if we let anything happen to you." 

 

"You don't have to do this." Stiles says, earnestly addressing Derek's wife, omega to omega for the first time in his life. "How can you think this idea is even a little bit okay?"

 

Ryanne looks up at his husband, his classic, polished features betraying very little. The omega takes Derek's large rough hand and locks his fingers with the alpha's before looking back at Stiles. "My husband is the strongest alpha I know. He's the head of this household. If this is his desicion, of course I support him." Ryanne looks up at Derek with large adoring eyes. Derek is still looking fixedly at Stiles. 

 

"What?!" Stiles is gaping at both of them, barely even able to track the conversation. He thinks this is how it must feel to be on acid. "I don't- what?!"

 

"Stiles, honey." Laura comes over and looks down at Stiles caringly while still maintaining a respectful alpha distance. "Calm down. We're going to get through this. Derek's idea is a very practical one. Our family is not without resources. We can protect you if you're llegally one of us. You can stay here on the ranch until we can get this repealed. It's not a bad plan." 

 

"Were you actually listening to Derek's plan?" Stiles asks skeptically. He turns back to Derek. "You have a daughter. You have a family."

 

"Yeah, I do." Derek says, untangling himself from Ryanne's hand and walking towards Stiles purposefully. "I have a daughter who barely knows her own godfather because he's always on the run from these archaic laws. And I have a best friend who I haven't seen in years, who won't even return my phone calls." Derek looks down at Stiles emphatically. "My sisters miss you. My mother worries about you. Cambria doesn't know how awesome you are." Derek leans towards Stiles. "Why can't you see this for what it is?"

 

"The worst idea you've ever had?" Stiles says. "Wrong on every level known to mankind?" 

 

"A chance for us to be us again." Derek says. "Come on, Stiles. When's the last time you and I had any real time together?" Derek smiles. "You'll love it here. There's more than enough room for everyone. We can swim and fish and ride horses like we did when we were kids. You won't have to worry about anything. If you want or need anything I'll get it for you. It'll be you and me again, just like the old days. You'll be happy here, I know it." Derek's face so eleated and hopeful and almost boyish. Stiles feels like it's his responsibility to bring the alpha back to reality ASAP. 

 

"We're talking about getting married, you idiot- not summer camp." Stiles snaps. "And I have options. There's no reason for you to have to uproot your whole life, Derek. That's insainty. There are other ways."

 

"What other ways?" Derek asks, his eyes flashing. "And don't even try to pull bullshit on me, Stiles, because I know how you think. Running is not an option. It's way too dangerous. Even if state doesn't find you, you can't live like that, Stiles. You can't keep this up." Derek leans down and puts his hands on Stiles upper arms, pulling him in closer. "Come home, Stiles."

 

Stiles doesn't look at Derek. After being on his own so much he'd forgotten what is was like to be casusally touched, and how often Derek always did that with him. "I can't." Stiles says, quiet and overwhelmed and miserable. "I just..."

 

Stiles feels Derek's hands stiffen and clench harder around his upper arms, but when the alpha speaks his voice is gentle. "Is there someone else?" 

 

Stiles opens his mouth, taking a breath, willing himself to lie to Derek, to assure the alpha he has shit lined up, that he doesn't have to take his best friend's charity. In the end however Stiles can just shake his head. "No." He admits quietly. "There's no one else." He looks up at Derek warily, trying to preserve what's left of his dignity. "I've been moving around a lot, you know?"

 

"Then why won't you marry me?" Derek asks, looking confused and exasperated. 

 

"You just don't understand." Stiles says, feeling his face grow hard, shrugging Derek's hands off his arms bruskly. "How could you possibly think this is something I'd want, Derek? Not like this." Stiles mutters, turning to stalk angrily out of the room. "No fucking way."


	4. Chapter 4: Before and After You

_"To be without food is to be tested. To be without sleep is to be challenged. To be without an omega is to be cursed."_

How many times had Derek heard his mother and Grandfather repeat that old Alpha saying as a child? Enough times that he had never really stopped to think about it what it meant when he was a kid. In a rough and ready country filled with the underemployed, the disenfranchised, the used, and the overlooked, Derek knows he is anything but cursed. Derek is a strong, young alpha who had the good fortune to be born into a family and a social station that allowed him to harness and capitalize on his natural talents until, now as an adult, Derek has a good life. Better than that, Derek has grown strong and powerful enough that he can personally assure a good, safe life filled with joy and laughter for those he loves. As an alpha, there isn't anything more gratifying than that.

Derek is a land owner and a brother, a husband and a father. He has hundreds of workers who rely on him to keep them in the dignity of work and their families in homes and food and clothing, to protect them from the terror and shame of starvation and homelessness. Thanks to Talia's strong parental hand and iron discipline, this is not a responsibility Derek takes lightly. Derek knows if he's to be the leader and the alpha his employees and his family deserves, he must be strong and he must listen to his alpha instincts and be sure. Talia always told him a well bred alpha spends years developing and honing his natural instincts and intuitions so that he can rely on them to guide him later in life. Derek has always had good instincts and when it comes to the things that matter the most, he finds he often doesn't have to think. When it comes to the big stuff, Derek just knows.

Stiles was the first thing Derek had ever been sure about, and Derek knows he'll stay sure until the day he dies. Laws will rise and fall, society can reorder and redefine their whole world, but Stiles Stilinski will be Derek's best friend for life and nothing in the whole of existence can tell him otherwise. The two boys had been meant to be right off from the beginning back when Derek had found that bully taunting Stiles on the school yard of Fairest Academy. What Derek had actually found was some over-grown alpha bully taunting a tree. The tiny omega boy had been all but invisible in the foliage. After Derek had chased off the other boy he’d climbed up into the tree the see the omega he’d been smelling from the ground. Derek had expected to see some scared little kindergarten baby, but instead he’d found a scrawny omega with enormous bug eyes and too big clothing staring straight at him unafraid and unblinkingly through the leaves, as if expecting another fight. After Derek had helped him down he’d looked at the kid and thought he resembled the half-starved stray kitten Laura had brought home last week.

“What’d you say to him?” Derek had asked the little omega, his sense of justice making him curious.

“Nothing.” The omega had shrugged, his confident voice sounding beyond his years. “I don’t even know he who is. This is my first day of school.”

“You musta done something to him to make him come after you.” Derek had said, dubious in all of his seven year-old wisdom.

Stiles had shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by the bully’s graphic threats. “Nah.”

“Then why was he so mean to you?” Derek asked. Nobody had ever been mean to Derek at school before. His older sister was the baddest alpha on the playground. It had never occurred to him that people could be mean for no reason.

“I don’t know. That’s just the way things are.” The little omega had said. “Not everything makes sense. Some things just are like that.”

Derek had stared at the little omega and it was the first time in his life he had ever been intrigued by one. He didn’t really understand the strange-looking creature in front of him, but he knew he wanted to hang out with him. He knew they were going to be friends. As the years went by Derek never really figured his best friend out. Sure, he grew accustomed to Stiles’ likes and dislikes. He’d learn how to make the omega laugh and what his favorite foods were. Derek had grown to recognize Stiles’ moods and the distant, calculating looks he got in his eyes when he was thinking about some intense and troubling problem, but Stiles never quite lost his ability to surprise and delight Derek. They had never once ran out of things to talk about and Derek had never stopped wanting to figure him out.

A lot had been made over Derek’s career about how his strong, determined mother, and beautiful, compassionate sisters had shaped him into the alpha he was today, but as Derek watches his own alpha daughter grow, he can’t help but wonder how much of who he is today can be attributed directly to Stiles. Cambria is nine now, and by that age Derek had already known Stiles for two years and rarely left the omega’s side. His daughter is social and stubborn, ruling her clique of pretty little friends at school with a high pitched giggle and an ever ready eye roll. She is an assertive little thing who borders on aggressive with her classmates. She dosen’t have the patience for pets or younger children. Where most alpha children born to power and privilege are like his own daughter in prefering the company of other alpha children, Derek had spent his developmental years with an omega runt with brain and mouth that never went on holiday and kept writing checks his skinny body couldn’t cash. Not only would Derek not have preferred it any other way, he couldn’t even imagine it.

It occurs to Derek that even before he had married Ryanne he’d always had an omega. Wrapped and sheltered in the luxurious cloak of money and a loving family from infancy, Derek had never known hunger, never experienced insomnia, he had never known what it felt like to want for anything until after Stiles had graduated. Skipping meals and sleepless nights had only come after Stiles left. Loneliness. He had known the word but not its meaning until after Stiles decided to travel the world. Cursed. The idea is laughable. Ludicrous. Derek had everything- _has_ everything. The idea that he could be lonely when he has a loving wife, a beautiful daughter, is respected and held up by his community is nothing short of insanity. Yet all he could think of tonight when Stiles had shown up on his couch was how at now, and only now everything was truly right in his world and the deep ache he had ignoring for far too long was finally gone.

Derek heads out his vast front door into the manicured lawn to where the stubborn omega had stomped out. He pauses by the door for a moment, taking in the sight of his best friend against the dusk. Stiles has lit up a cigarette and is hunched over, glaring at the dead lawn. He is so beautiful. Ryanne had worked as a male model briefly before they had married, and Derek knows his wife is considered by many to be a near perfect specimen of masculine omega allure, but there is something about Stiles that has always made Derek’s breath catch in his throat and stay there like a strangle hold on his attention. Stiles’ isn’t the most classically photogenic guy. He’s never worn fine clothes and he wasn’t blessed with a perfect genetic musculature, but there is raw and alive and so pure and intense about the omega that he makes every eye stop and look at him whenever he enters a room. The omega lifts his head and blows a fume of toxic, hateful smoke out into the atmosphere and Derek is reminded with a pang of how the stray Laura had brought home when they were in grade school and slowly weakened and died a week later.


	5. Chapter 5: Stay

He smells Derek before he sees him. Knew he was there probably before Derek had even opened the front door. It’s like Stiles can detect the alpha’s very intentions. It’s always like that with Derek. How could Stiles have forgotten how in tune he is to Derek? How _weak_ he is to him...

He can feel the alpha’s all too familiar eyes burning through the dusk, feeling him out without hands, calling him out soundlessly. Stiles raises his eyes to the heavens, inhaling the blessed smoke like a silent, thoughtless prayer.

“You know I hate when you do that.” Derek’s voice is right behind him now. The alpha gestures to the cigarette.

“I know.” Stiles doesn’t look at him. He takes another drag, deeper this time. He feels the alpha’s larger hand close over his, taking the cigarette from his hand. The alpha tosses the offending butt on the cold ground and grinds it out efficiently with the heel of his boot. There’s another beat of silence and Derek is the only scent left on the night air. “What do you want, Derek?” Stiles asks lowly.

“I came to talk to you.” Derek says.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“We have to talk.” There is that alpha finality in his tone and Stiles inwardly curses at how impossible his friend is to ignore.

Stiles sighs, a plum of his own breath now rushing out into the chilled air. He folds his arms around himself, as much a gesture of self protection as it is of frustration.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice is there again, closer this time. “We need to talk about this.”

“What?” Stiles snaps, finally looking at the larger man in infinite irritation.

Derek raises his eyebrows. “Are you ready to be reasonable about this?” The alpha asks.

“Are you?” Stiles retorts.

It’s Derek’s turn to sigh in frustration. The alpha folds his arms in a more impressive display of spleen. “What are you going to do, Stiles?”

Stile grits his teeth and looks away again.

“You going to go on the run?” Derek’s tone makes his cynicism apparent. “You’ll last what? Two months, maybe three? You’re smart, sure. But you don’t know the inner workings of the state like I do. Like Laura does. You know we grew up surrounded by this shit. The resources they have are draconian as fuck.” Derek lets out another breath. “So what? Four months of hell? Six, if you’re lucky. Of sleeping in the streets, of us not knowing where you are or if you’re okay. Of constantly watching your back and not knowing where your next meal is coming from-“

“I could do it.” Stiles grates out. “I’m not afraid of living rough-“

“Yeah, that’s always been your problem.” Derek interrupts, laughing humorlessly. “And fuck yeah, you could do it- for a while. And then they’ll catch you and by then it’ll be too late for anyone to do shit about it. And they’ll cage you up and you’ll hate that.” Derek’s voice is hard. “And they’ll give you to some stranger and who the fuck even knows then?” Derek shakes his head. “You’ll hate them too. Whoever it is. You’ll hate that alpha for taking away your freedom and that will kill you.” Derek looks at Stiles dead on. “It will kill you, Stiles and you know it.”

Stiles still won’t look back at the alpha. At last he says, “What’s your point, Derek?”

“You know my point.”

“Enlighten me.” Stiles says through clenched teeth. He wishes to God Derek hadn’t stomped out his last cigarette, the self-righteous, control obsessed d-bag.

“Marry me.” Derek says. “Come on, you stubborn asshole! Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t marry me.”

This time Stiles can’t help himself. He whips back around to the alpha. “I don’t have to give you one good reason, Derek, because there’s about a million obvious ones to choose from! You’d realize that if you ever stopped to use your fucking brain for once.” Stiles throws his arms down. “Fucking alpha!” He swears.

“That’s right, I am a fucking alpha!” Derek shoots back, turning to get right back in Stiles’ face. “And alphas protect the things we care about! We don’t just leave and run off and hide when things get hard, we stay! And we find a way! You understood that once!”

“Who the fuck are you to lecture me about understanding?” Stiles spits, not backing down an inch in the face of the larger man. “You have no fucking idea of what I’m capable of, Derek. The things I’ve done! On my own!” Stiles eyes flash in the night. “You’ve been sitting here in your fucking house with a fucking wife for the last decade and I’ve been making it work. On my own. By myself.” Stiles shakes his head in disgust. “I’m not your fucking kid and I’m not one of your fucking employees and you can’t tell me what to do. YOU understood that once!”

“Is that what this is about?” Derek yells back. “Your fucking suicidal pride?! I am not trying to tell you what to do, you asshole.”

“Then what are you trying to do?” Stiles matches Derek’s volume and he’s sure everyone in the county can hear them.

“I am trying to help you!” All of a sudden Derek’s strong arms are grasping Stiles’ sides and pulling him in close, and Stiles realizes the alpha is trembling. “Jesus, Stiles!” The alpha’s voice is broken now, devoid of any anger but now filled with some kind of emotion Stiles can’t quite identify. “I don’t want them to take you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To my family? Why do you have to be so hard about this?”

Stiles swallows, almost unable to handle the alpha being so close, here with him, after so many years of keeping Derek and everybody else at arms length.

“This is my freedom we’re talking about, Derek.” Stiles says, and his voice is almost pleading. “I don’t... I can’t...”

“I know...” Derek murmurs into his hair, pulling him in for real now and holding him like a drowning man. “And I wish to fuck it wasn’t like this, I do. But I can’t let you do this. I just... I can’t.”

Stiles swallows, feeling terrible hot tears behind his eyes. He tries desperately to will them away. “I know.” He says. “I know how you are.” He looks up at Derek. “But I can’t let you do this either.”

“Fuck.” Derek swears hoarsely. “Fuck.”

“You have a family-“

“You’re my family.” Derek insists.

“Not like that.” Stiles says as gently as he can. “Not like them. Ryanne and Cambria- they’re your family. And your loyalty is to them now.” Stiles stares up at Derek. “You need to protect them. You can’t just completely turn Cambria’s life inside out. Not for anything or anyone. Not for me.”

Derek goes still for a moment, just breathing, just holding Stiles and the omega thinks he’s finally gotten through. Then Derek says in a tight voice, “You want to know how long you were gone, Stiles?” Stiles stares up at him. “Nine years, seven months, and fifteen days.” Stiles is at a loss. “Yeah,” Derek swallows. “I kept track.” A shudder goes through the alpha and Stiles can feel it shaking him. “Stiles, if you run, even if you get away for good, I’m never going to see you again. If they catch you and take you to the camps, I’m never going to see you again.” Derek closes his eyes. “Is that what you want for us?”

Stiles goes still and he thinks he can feel his heart stop. He shuts his eyes as well, tightly. “No.” He whispers. “No. I don’t want that.”

“Then marry me.” Derek says, his eyes pleading. “Come home. Stay home and marry me. We’ll work to get this thing repealed. Laura and I and my mom will work night and day on this. I’ll go to Washington, myself if I have to. Just don’t run off. Don’t disappear. Stay here. Stay here and let me help you.”

Stiles sighs. He should have known this is the way it was going to go. He knew coming home was a terrible idea because he’s so goddam weak to Derek and it’s far too easy to let the alpha lull him back into some insane, ridiculous sense of safety. It’s not that it isn’t hard to leave. It’s just too easy to stay.

“Okay, Derek.” Stiles surrenders quietly.

“Okay?” Derek’s whole face lights up with hope. “You’ll stay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nods, hating himself.

“You’ll marry me?”

Stiles hesitates, wishing the earth would just open up and swallow him whole. “Yes.” He says. “I’ll marry you.”

“Oh God.” Derek grabs him around the waist with an almost giddy sigh of relief. “Really?” The alpha says and his smile is dazzling and terrible.

“Really.” Stiles says flatly.

“It’s going to be okay, Stiles.” Derek assures him, grinning almost manically. “You’ll see- everything is going is going to be fine.”

 _No, it’s not._ Stiles thinks. _It’s really not._


	6. Chapter 6: Blended

“So, what are we going to tell your kid?” Stiles asks as the two men shoulder their way back into the warm mansion.

Derek shrugs, pulling off his boots, looking unperturbed. “The truth?”

“That her father’s a crazy person?” Stiles offers. “Nah, she probably already knows that.”

Stiles and Derek round the corner into the large kitchen to see a disgruntled looking Cora seated at the large island in the center of the room staring down at her niece with pursed lips. Laura is brushing the little girl’s long dark hair as she happily munches apple slices in pink leopard print pajamas.

Ryanne rushes forwards as soon as he sees them. “Derek, it’s freezing out.” He chides gently. “You went out without a coat?” He puts one palm on Derek’s broad chest. “I made tea. Have some.” He glances at Stiles nervously as he herds his husband into the bight room.

Derek eyes Cora with a questioning look. The younger alpha blows a stray curl out of her eyes in a gesture of defeat.

“ _Somebody_ didn’t want to go to bed.” She says, looking down at Cambria darkly. “Santa will give you coal if you aren’t asleep when he comes.”

Cambria looks unconcerned as her father slides in next to her. “Daddy says Santa wouldn’t give someone as pretty as me coal.” She says confidently.

“Yeah, he used to say the same thing to me about the dean and detentions.” Stiles mutters. He feels even more awkward standing there in Ryanne’s kitchen with Derek’s daughter in light of the conclusion of what happened outside. He leans against the cupboard anxiously.

Laura seems to be searching her brother’s face carefully for an indication of what went on. She puts down the hairbrush and turns towards Stiles with a questioning look in her eyes. Stiles looks down at the Parque floors.

“Did you...?” Cora murmurs to Derek, eyeing him covertly. Derek looks at his little sister and nods shortly. Cora glances over to Stiles before quickly turning back to her brother. “Will he...?” Derek nods again. “YAY!” Cora squeals and jumps up to throw her arms around Stiles.

“What’s her problem?” Cambria demands.

“Whoa...” Stiles says, patting Cora on the back, looking to Laura to for help. He really shouldn’t have. The older alpha is beaming and looking suspiciously misty-eyed. She pulls a tissue out of her pocket.

Ryanne sets a mug of tea in front of Derek and puts both his hands on Derek’s shoulders, looking down at his husband.

Derek smiles up at him before turning back to his daughter. “Honey,” He starts. “I have great news.”

“Oh no.” Cambria rolls her eyes. “I’m not getting a brother, am I?”

Ryanne pales a little, but Derek doesn’t seem to see. “No,” He laughs. “It’s much better than that.”

Stiles watches the family warily, wishing he’d had the strength to tell Derek ‘no’ out there.

Derek puts his arm around Cambria’s petite shoulders. “Uncle Stiles is going to stay with us!” He announces like it’s the best news in the world instead of the ticking nuclear bomb it really is.

Cambria looks over at Stiles skeptically. Stiles can’t much blame her, but he tries to smile.

“You are?” She asks.

“Apparently.” Stiles says and is promptly rewarded with a sharp elbow from Cora in his side. “I mean, yes.” Stiles amends quickly, putting as big of a smile on his face as he can muster. “I am.”

Cambria looks at the adults suspiciously. At last her keen gaze lands back on Stiles, clearly smelling the weakest link. “Are you marrying my dad, Uncle Stiles?” She asks.

The whole room goes quiet and Stiles looks over at Derek and Ryanne in panic. Derek nods at him encouragingly. The man is clearly insane.

It’s Ryanne who finally comes to Stiles’ rescue, sitting down on the other side of his daughter. “Why would you ask that, honey?” He asks lightly.

“I heard Aunt Cora say Stiles was going to marry my dad.” She states, her voice matter-a-fact.

Stiles glares at Cora sharply.

“I never said that!” Cora exclaims throwing her hands up.

“Yes, you did.” Cambria fixes her young aunt with the stare of a veteran prosecutor. “I heard you telling Aunt Laura this morning that if Dad and Stiles ever got in the same room ever again they were probably going to off and elope because they miss each other so much. And elope means marry. I looked it up.”

It’s Stiles turn to turn pale now.

“What?!” Cora says to Stiles’ murderous look. “I was joking- obviously!”

“But you’re getting married for real, right?” Cambria fixes her intense little face on Stiles and he thinks she’s never looked more like Laura.

Stiles clears his throat nervously and steps forwards. “Um. Is that okay?” He asks hesitantly.

“So you’re going to be like... another mommy?” Cambria asks.

“No!” Stiles shakes his head vehemently, he looks at Ryanne pleadingly. “No. Nobody is going to take your mommy’s place.”

Cambria shrugs. “Most of the kids at school have more than one mommy. My friend Stephanie has three mommies.”

“This isn’t like that.” Stiles says, his eyes darting around for help. “Not really.”

“Stiles and I are getting married.” Derek says as if this is a totally reasonable conversation. “But your mom is not going to stop being your mom and nothing is going to change around here. You’ll just get to spend more time with Uncle Stiles now.”

“Yes!” Stiles agrees emphatically. “Nothing is going to change. You won’t even notice I’m here, if you don’t want to.”

From the other end of the room Cora stifles a snort.

“Your daddy is just helping me out.” Stiles tries again.

“By marrying you?” Cambria looks skeptical.

“Yes.” Stiles says, trying to smile again. He looks over at Ryanne and Derek. “Your dad and I are really old friends. So he’s... he’s doing me like a favor. Giving me a place to stay.”

“I don’t get it.” Cambria announces.

“You and me both, kid.” Stiles mutters.

“Cam, remember when we had that talk about bad people?” Laura says, stepping in evenly. She looks over at Ryanne. “Remember how I told you there are people out there who just want to control and tell omegas who aren’t married what to do?”

“Yes.” Cambria nods.

“Uncle Stiles isn’t married. So there are bad people who want to take him away.” Ryanne speaks up.

“So if Dad doesn’t marry you they’ll take you away?” Cambria looks at Stiles, worry in her brown eyes.

Stiles looks back at Ryanne, helpless. “Yes.” Ryanne says. “Right now if Dad doesn’t marry Uncle Stiles something really bad could happen to him.” He hugs his daughter with one arm. “Your dad and Uncle Stiles have been friends for a really long time. So we have to help him out. That’s why Dad is marrying Uncle Stiles. It’s not like Stephanie’s mommies. Daddy is only marrying Uncle Stiles until he and Aunt Laura and Grandma can stop the bad people.” Ryanne looks over to his husband. “Right, Derek?”

Derek smiles down at Cambria. “That means Uncle Stiles is going to live here with us. Isn’t that great?”

“So you’re not really marrying Uncle Stiles?” Cambria asks her dad. “You’re pretending?”

“No,” Derek says, “We’re really getting married.”

“But it’s like pretend.” Ryanne answers. “You can think of it like that if you want. Nothing is going to change.”

Cambria is silent for a moment. Then she turns to Stiles, “You don’t love my dad, Uncle Stiles?”

Stiles is taken aback for a moment. He blinks and then smiles again, trying to look comforting. “Your dad loves your mom, Cam.” He says, crouching down next to the little girl, looking at her eye to eye. “He loves him a whole lot. Nothing is going to change that, okay? Not even when your dad and I get married. And if after the wedding you don’t like it, all you have to do is say so, okay?”

“Stiles,” Derek says, softly. “Cambria will be fine. Won’t you, Cam?”

Carmbria smiles brightly at her dad. “Yeah.” She says. “I think I get it.” She pauses for a moment before turning back to Stiles. “I bet _you’ll_ let me have a TV in my room.”


	7. Chapter 7: A Love Story

When people ask how he and Derek met, Ryanne tells them it was a typical fairytale romance. Alpha meets omega, alpha falls hard for omega, alpha sweeps omega off his feet, alpha and omega live happily ever after. Ryanne feels like people expect this- Ryanne certainly had, himself, and he's repeated it so many times, it almost feels like it's the whole truth now. Ryanne is pretty sure every omega dreams about his wedding day and his future husband as a child- even one as obnoxious as Stiles. Really though, Ryanne can't quite bring himself to imagine Stiles as a child day dreaming aloud with his friends about who would marry the richest or most handsome alpha the way he and his other omega friends used to do.

Derek Hale is exactly the kind of alpha Ryanne had always imagined marrying. A modern day prince charming complete with his own corporate kingdom and luxurious ranch-style castle. They are a perfect couple- everyone from Ryanne's mother to the woman who cuts Cambria's hair says so. Derek is as ruggedly handsome as Ryanne is classically stylish. Together they are as wealthy as they are affluent, as popular as they are respected. Ryanne knows he's lucky to have a true family man who is both a hands-on father and an amazing provider. The omega can't help but preen with pride at all the all jealous looks the other wives give him whenever Derek is out with their daughter. If you were to look the at beautiful color family photos Ryanne keeps carefully curated en mass around their home you would think Ryanne got everything thing he ever wanted. You would think they had a life out of a magizine. A typical suburban fairy tale. That's what Ryanne tells his friends.

There is one part of the story that never quite makes it in whenever Ryanne talks about how he and his husband met. Ryanne had been 16 that summer and the whole world had seemed like it was his to reach out take. He'd been practicing his tennis serve in one of the back courts of his parents' gated vacation community when the most striking alpha Ryanne had ever seen had walked over and asked him if he'd seen a skinny omega run by in the last half hour. Ryanne always fails to mention that when he and his husband first met, Derek had been desperately searching for Stiles. Derek had been so charming and well dressed and confident, Ryanne had started planning their wedding nearly the moment he'd laid eyes on the only son of Senator Hale. Hungry to know this beautiful stranger better, Ryanne had offered to help search for the elusive omega with Derek, and while they never actually managed to find this 'Stiles' person, by the end of the night Derek had asked for Ryanne's number and Ryanne had given it to him with his heart so full of excitement the omega was positive the alpha could hear it beating through his chest.

Throughout their subsequent courtship Ryanne would learn that Derek had pretty much two states of being: He was always either with Stiles or looking for Stiles and almost nothing in between. Ryanne had found the alpha's preoccupation with the odd little omega a little disturbing at first. He had never met an alpha before who had an omega as a best friend, let alone one that was as big a part of his life as Stiles seemed to be to Derek, and Ryanne couldn't help but wonder. He'd observed the odd pair closely over he and Derek's first few months of dating, searching for any hint of something more that friendship. However, eventually Ryanne was convinced that while he was sure the hyper-active omega had an unhealthy fixation on Derek, Derek didn't seem to veiw Stiles as anything more than a friend. Ryanne had comforted himself with the fact that his friends always told him how frightfully unattractive the skinny omega was in comparison to his own conventional beauty and that Derek could never possibly view Stiles as a romantic partner, let alone mate material.

Still, throughout his and Derek's courtship Ryanne had always wanted to forbid Derek from seeing the omega. It was even right on the tip of Ryanne's tongue half a dozen times throughout their early relationship, but something always had stopped him from pulling the trigger. Ryanne had known since the day he and Derek met that Derek was his dream; Derek was his future. The omega had a pretty good handle on the whole Stiles situation, but there always was that slim possibility that if Ryanne forced Derek into a corner, made Derek choose between him and Stiles, Ryanne would loose. The risk might be minuscule, but to Ryanne it was still to big a risk to take.

The proposal had come after an aggressive two year campaign on Ryanne's part of dropping hints, leaving out engagement ring advertisements, and having his friends ask the alpha when he was going to 'pop the question.' When it finally happened Ryanne had felt as though he'd won the love lottery. Even then he'd nearly ruined it all the night of their engagement by flying into a full on sobbing tantrum after Derek told him they couldn't start planning the wedding that weekend because he was surprising Stiles with a trip to Vermont. Ryanne can't remember feeling more hurt than he had when his new fiance told him he wanted to take another omega away for a weekend right after they'd gotten engaged- even one as laughably unappealing as Stiles. In the end he needn't have worried. Stiles had always been a weird omega and Derek's strange friend had left without fanfare or really telling anyone where he was going a few days later. Ryanne had felt badly, but he'd also never been happier to see anyone go in his life.

He'd been young. He was in love, deeply and desperately in love with his fiance. He'd honestly thought everything would be perfect now that the other omega was gone. In his complete and utter blind elation over their impending marriage, Ryanne had forgetten that Derek had two ways of being in the world: he was either with Stiles or looking for him.

It hadn't been obvious- not a first, not to anyone who wasn't desperately in love with Derek. In the first few weeks after Stiles left Derek seemed fine. Sure, the alpha had been a little manic, a little obsessive about emailing and repeatedly calling Stiles. Then Derek lost his appetite. Once a voracious eater, Derek seemed to loose any interest in eating for pleasure. It wasn't anything so obvious that you would notice if you weren't marrying the guy, but Ryanne was in love and he noticed everything. All of a sudden Derek no longer had the patience for sit down restaurants and became he increasingly apathetic about where they would go on date nights. Soon Derek began avoiding going out to have double dates with Ryanne's friends. He had all kinds of excuses for why he couldn't go see a movie or have brunch at the country club with Ryanne's family. Next, Derek out and out refused to be a part of the wedding planning. Ever the alpha, Derek gradually grew more serious, more quiet, and even more reserved. Ryanne had figured Derek was just not that into wedding planning and was simply taking on more and more work to avoid it. Then the wedding came and went. Derek's work load only continued to increase. The alpha began getting up earlier and earlier in the morning and coming to bed later and later at night. One morning, after they had been married for a time, Ryanne woke up and realized Derek wasn't constantly calling and texting Stiles anymore, but he also wasn't smiling or laughing anymore either.

Cambria was born and Ryanne had hoped the baby would bring the light back into Derek's eyes. While Derek doted on their daughter, it was obvious to Ryanne that his husband was completely apathetic to anything was wasn't a direct responsibility, such as work or rearing their child. Against Ryanne's wishes, Stiles came home for Cambria's Christening, if only briefly. In those short hours when the omega had been in their home, Ryanne was forced to admit the his husband was not the same alpha as Stiles' best friend. Derek had been all smiles, he'd joked with Stiles, and playfully tackled the omega to the ground, chasing him around their vast living room like a child hyped up on too much sugar. Stiles had been much more subdued. Ryanne noticed with a terrible, guilty glee how the homely omega's looks had seemed to have fallen even farther in his time away. Stiles had looked tired, drawn, and weary. When the odd omega had gone, the sparkle in Derek's eye left with him, their home had returned to blessed, predictable normalcy. And this is what Ryanne has with his husband that Stiles doesn't. Ryanne may not get the laughing, boyish Derek, but Ryanne gets to be Derek's normal. It's Ryanne, and not Stiles with whom Derek lives and eats and marks his days. Ryanne is the mother of Derek's child. Ryanne's name is on Derek's checking accounts, and it is Ryanne who drives the new cars that Derek buys for their family. Stiles may hold the key to parts of Derek Ryanne doesn't know how to acess, but it's Ryanne that has the key to Derek's house. Ryanne knows that even with the odd omega back in their lives, Stiles is still just the same weird sad outcast he was back when he and Derek were dating. Ryanne was bred and raised with all the social and familial graces expected of the wife of an alpha like Derek. At the end of the day Ryanne knows that he and Stiles are two completely different animals. And that's why Derek married him all those years ago. Ryanne is Derek's life. All Stiles will ever be is a nostalgic distraction.


	8. Chapter 8: Treacherous

It’s Christmas Day and Derek is sitting in his large secluded office on the first floor, looking but not really seeing the pile of blueprints in front of him. He will return to the family soon, it is Christmas after all, but if there are changes that need to be made for Stiles, Derek wants the plans put into action as soon as possible. The main house on the property, the house Derek’s family shares, is as vast and endless and the fields themselves. One of Derek’s friends had designed the home to Ryanne’s specifications shortly they had gotten married and when it was finished, Derek had honestly thought it was all a bit much. Ryanne had insisted on adding multiple extra bedrooms and bathrooms under the guise of wanting the space and accommodations to do all kinds of entertaining Derek had neither the time nor the inclination to do. As the house stands now, there is plenty of room to add one more omega to the household without anybody even noticing, but Derek wonders if there is anything in the current layout that Stiles would object to all the same. They could easily add another wing on to the house if Stiles wants his own walk out patio or something. Derek knows the omega loves large windows and running around outdoors. He’ll have to see about procuring another horse for Stiles...

There is a tentative knock on the door and Derek starts. The office is Derek’s sanctuary and private workspace. Cambria is not allowed in the room, and everyone knows never to disturb Derek while he’s inside. Derek’s work is complicated and time-consuming and there has always been clear boundaries about interrupting him.

“What is it?” Derek calls.

The door opens and Cora busts in, all curls and attitude, per usual, followed by Ryanne. The omega is shirtless and carrying a mug of coffee. Derek takes in the clear expanse of skin and delicate well defined muscles of his wife’s chest.

“I’m working.” Derek tells the newcomers, leaning one elbow down on the blueprints. “Did you change?” He nods at Ryanne.

“It’s warm in here.” Ryanne shrugs.

“It’s December. Little cold to be walking around without a shirt.” Derek notes.

“Yeah, Derek. It’s Christmas.” Cora says, making and face and flopping down into an enormous leather armchair. “Why are you working?”

“I know.” Derek says. “I’ll be out soon. I just want to get started on some things before the work starts to pick up again.”

“I thought you might like a cup of coffee.” Ryanne says, offering Derek the mug. It’s black- just the way Derek prefers it.

“Thank you.” Derek smiles up at his wife. “I’ll be done in a minute.” Nobody moves. “You know, the longer you’re in here, the longer this is going to take me.”

Ryanne sits down in the chair closest to Derek, looking at him sideways. “Derek,” He starts. “I have reservations.”

“Good.” Derek grunts. “I’m starving. Is it to that new Italian place? Stiles loves Italian food.”

“Stiles has been to Italy, Derek.” Cora says, rolling her eyes. “You think he’s going to want to eat the shitty food around here?”

“Not those kind of reservations.” Ryanne says, ignoring his sister-in-law. He reaches out and takes Derek’s hand. Derek squeezes it comfortingly.

“Okay.” Derek nods.

“It’s about this... marriage thing.” Ryanne says. He puts up a hand. “I know how much you care about Stiles and I know you guys have been friends forever, but is this really the best thing to do right now?”

Derek furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Stiles is right.” Ryanne continues. “This is a lot for Cambria. I mean, she’s so young.”

“You saw her last night.” Derek says. “She’s fine with it. She seems to understand what’s going on just fine.”

“She’s nine.” Ryanne says. “You really think this is the best time for things to be unstable around here? Derek, with your job and everything? Don’t you think we’ve go enough on our plate?”

“What do you mean ‘unstable’?” Derek asks. “This is a chance for her to get to know Stiles. You know how much I want that for Cam, Ryanne.”

“I know.” Ryanne says. “And it’s so sweet that you want to help your friend. But I guess... I just don’t see why it has to be you. Why it has to be us.”

“What are you talking about?” Derek’s eyes narrow. “Did you even read that ordinance? I gave it to you. Did you read it? Do you know what they’re going to do to Stiles if we don’t do this?”

“Yes, Derek,” Ryanne says calmly. “I read it. You know I don’t want that for Stiles- for anyone. You know I think it’s just as terrible as you do.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Derek says, looking at his wife closely.

“It doesn’t have to be you, Derek.” Ryanne says, winding his other hand with Derek’s as well until he’s holding Derek’s hand with both of his, looking into his husband’s eyes. “There are other ways.” He looks over at his sister-in-law. “Cora isn’t married. She said she’d be willing to marry him.”

Derek looks over to his sister sharply.

“Of course I would, Derek.” Cora says. “I love Stiles too. I’ll do whatever I need to.”

“Cora is eighteen!” Derek says standing up in agitation, clearly disturbed his wife would even suggest such a thing.“Stiles is almost eight years older than she is! What’s going to happen when the state starts poking around? She lives in a walk up in the middle of the city!” Derek turns back to his sister. “You’re still in school. No- this is way too much responsibility for you to take on right now.” Derek looks at Ryanne. “I can’t believe you’d even bring something like this up to my kid sister.”

“It doesn’t have to be her!” Ryanne says, following his husband up, his eyes pleading. “We know plenty of other alphas with lots of space in their homes. I’m sure any one of them would be happy to-“

“Shh!” Derek says sharply, glancing back quickly at the open door. He moves over in one fast motion and shuts it tightly before turning back to Cora and Ryanne. “Have either of you mentioned this to Stiles?” He demands, eyeing the two of them sharply.

Ryanne looks pale. “No...” He shakes his head. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Derek says emphatically. “Don’t.” He looks around at both of them. “Don’t either of you breathe a word of this to Stiles.”

“Why not?” Ryanne asks sighing. “He must know how much this is upsetting our lives, Derek-”

“Are you crazy?” Derek snaps, his eyes flashing. “You know he’s a flight risk! I only just got Stiles to agree to marry _me_. If he thinks, even for a moment, that I’m trying foist him off on someone else he’ll be gone and the next time we see him will be in chains at his state ordered wedding!”

“Okay,” Cora says. “ I think you are underestimating Stiles’ sense of perspective here. He knows what’s at stake. He’s not just going to split if you offer an alternative to this whole thing.”

“You don’t know him like I do!” Derek retorts, setting his jaw. “You don’t how batshit crazy he can get! I only just got him to open up and actually talk to me for the first time in years. Trust me. I know how he is- especially with me. He’s always looking for a reason to cut and run. You know what? Most of the time he doesn’t even need a reason! He’s already in the car!”

“Well maybe you should let him, Derek.” Ryanne says, reaching out for Derek. “He’s a grown man. He’s not your responsibility!”

Derek stares at his wife incredulously, flinching away. “I thought you understood how important this was, Ryanne. Stiles is my best friend. I can’t just leave him like this.”

“Nobody is saying we don’t want to keep Stiles safe.” Ryanne argues. “I just think it would be better for everyone if we don’t do something drastic. We have a lot of wonderful friends, Derek-“

“I’m not marrying Stiles to one of your friends, Ryanne.” Derek says. “Particularly not in a situation as fucked up as this one. The last thing Stiles needs right now is to be with a bunch of strangers.” Derek fold his arms. “He might act tough, but Stiles doesn’t always roll with the punches well. I’m not chancing him to anyone else.” Derek’s eyes are earnest. Angry, but sure. “If you think I’d trust another alpha with this, then I don’t know what kind of alpha you think I am. Stiles needs me right now. Me. Not anyone else. Nobody else would know how to handle him when he gets like this.” Derek lets out a hot breath. “I’m his best friend and we’re his family. He’s staying here, where he belongs, and that’s final.”

“Derek,” Ryanne’s eyes are shining with tears. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m really not. I know how much you want to help your friend. I just don’t want anything to change our lives. And Stiles is so unstable...”

“I know.” Derek says, numbly reaching over to embrace his wife. “I know. But he’s only like this because he thinks he’s on his own. And he’s not. It’ll be good for him to be here. It’ll be good for Cambria too.” Derek looks down at his wife. “Ryanne,” Derek swallows. “If I let him go he’s as good as dead. He needs to stay here. I need him to be here. And I need you to support my decision.”

“Of course I do, Derek.” Ryanne nods against Derek’s chest. “I love you.”

“I know you support me.” Derek sighs. “I’m on such treacherous ground with Stiles right now. I have to make things right with him. And for the first time in a long time I feel like I have a chance. Please, this means a lot to me.”

“I know.” Ryanne looks up at his husband and nods. “I know, Derek.”

“You’re the best.” Derek says kissing his wife’s forehead. “Now let’s go find Cambria and make some cocoa.”


	9. Chapter 9: Behind Closed Doors

"Stiles honey, can you come in here?" Laura's voice floats in from one of the long halls and Stiles follows it into a large, mostly empty corner room at the far end of the house. He turns the corner to see Derek's older sister on her hands and knees with a measuring tape, her raven hair swept back in a loose bun.

"What's up, Laura?" Stiles says, eyeing the alpha suspiciously.

Laura stands up and smiles at him. She turns and pulls open a pair of heavy damask drapes, letting pale winter sunlight in through one of the large windows.

"Hold this." Laura shoves one end of the measuring tape into Stiles hand, backing him up against one of the walls. She pulls the tape to the other end of the room, checking the measurements.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asks.

"Measuring for your new bedroom furniture." Laura says absently, clearly distracted by her task. "Derek said he wants to move you into this room."

"What's wrong with the guest room I'm in now?" Stiles folds his arms.

"It's in the guest wing." Laura says as though this is the most obvious thing in the world. She walks over to one of the doors and pulls it open revealing a small, narrow hallway lined with linen shelves. "And anyways, Derek's room is right through there."

"What?!" Stiles almost chokes. "Laura, I can't move in here. I don't want to intrude on Derek and Ryanne. Don't you think I'm being enough of a bother without literally living on top of them?"

Laura walks over and puts one hand on Stiles arm. "Honey, you need to stop acting like having you here is some big sacrifice. Nobody thinks of it that way. We're just happy to have you home." She smiles down at him. "Derek is thrilled that you've agreed to stay. I haven't seen him smile this much in a long time."

Stiles sighs. "I'm sorry I'm being such a whiny little bitch."

"Well you should be." Laura smiles.

"But seriously," Stiles continues. "I do not think it's a great idea to be this close to Derek and Ryanne... for any of us."

"If you're worried about bugging Derek, don't be." Laura says. "He's paranoid the state is going to come grab you in the middle of the night. I think he wants you within arms reach." She rolls her eyes. "And Ryanne's room is all the way in the other wing of the house. He sleeps by Cambria."

"Wait-" Stiles's shoot up his forehead. "Derek and Ryanne don't sleep in the same room?" He shakes his head almost as soon as the question passes his lips. "Forget I said that- it's none of my business."

Laura raises an eyebrow, looking at Stiles, amused. "I'd want to know what I was marrying into if I were you."

Stiles is desperately curious, but he instantly dismisses the temptation to pry. "It doesn't matter."

"Look," Laura sighs. "I've never understood their relationship. Ryanne and I have never really bonded- I think you know that." She looks at Stiles. "But I always told myself it's Derek's life, and if he wants to live with an omega whose chief ambition in life is to beat the ageing process, well that's his business."

"It is." Stiles agrees numbly.

"No," Laura corrects him. "It's not." She sets her jaw in typical Hale fashion. "I love Derek. He's my little brother. So at the end of the day his happiness is my problem too."

"We don't know that he and Ryanne aren't happy." Stiles points out obstinately.

Laura sighs. "You've been gone a long time." Her face twists into a thoughtful expression. "Derek didn't want more kids." She says.

"What?" Stiles asks, caught off guard by this offered information.

Laura shrugs. "Ryanne got pregnant straight out the gate- I mean like in the first three months after they were married." She scowls. "I think he thought it'd give Derek and him something to do other than look at carpet samples after this house was finished."

"Or they wanted a family?" Stiles offers.

"Sure." Laura looks dubious. "Anyways, Cam is born and it was great and Derek seemed happy about the baby, but then Ryanne wanted another one right away and Derek said absolutely not."

"Well, they were still pretty young." Stiles reasoned.

"Yeah, that wasn't it." Laura disagrees. She pauses, looking at Stiles. Her eyes seem a little sad. "He changed after you left."

"We both did." Stiles says, looking away. "We were growing up. That's life."

"He got old real fast." Laura sighs. "All of a sudden it was like he had no energy for anyone or anything but work. Ryanne kept pushing him to have more kids." She shrugs. "You know how stubborn Derek is. Eventually he just got sick of fighting all the time and moved Ryanne out of the master bedroom." She turns to Stiles, studying him closely. "They haven't shared a room in like, seven years."

Stiles bites his lip, shaking his head. Finally he says. "You know entirely too much about your brother's marriage. And now so do I." He makes a face.

Laura straightens. "Derek may be the alpha in this house, but I'm the alpha of this family while our mom is on the hill." She looks wistful. "I worry about him, Stiles. I worry about both of you."

Stiles turns away. "We're fine, Laura. We're great." He tries to smile. "I mean look at everything Derek's done. Look this house. Of course he's great."

Laura looks thoughtful and reaches out to squeeze the omega's hand. "Thank you." She whispers.

"For what?" Stiles asks.

"For staying." Laura says simply.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10: Fashion Armor

It's in the evening. Cambria has long since gone to bed, and Derek is back in his study, making notes and writing an email to the interior designer who worked on the house. He's in the middle of transferring an advance into the designer's account when, for the second time in one day someone bangs on his office door.

"Goddamnit." Derek swears under his breath, still fixated on his computer screen. "I'm working!" He calls out.

"I don't care."

Derek jumps around, completely surprised to hear Stiles' irate voice in his ear instead of Ryanne's the way he'd expected. He's greeted by the sight of a very skinny, shirtless Stiles glaring at him menacingly. Stiles' skin is flushed and slightly damp, as if the omega has just climbed out of the shower. All he appears to be wearing is a pair of Derek's too big sweatpants, hanging low on omega's slender hip bones, and an incredibly pissed off expression on his face. Derek grins anyways, not at all put off by the irritation on the omega's face.

Stiles doesn't see anything to smile about. His face sinks into an even deeper scowl. "You and I have some serious beef." He announces.

The air around Stiles is scented with the omega's clean, damp scent and Derek wants to rub his face closer in the delicious, homey smell. He'd forgotten how amazing Stiles' scent always was. The omega smells like vanilla birthday cake and the first day of summer vacation and campfire smoke under a sky full of stars. Derek wheels closer, leaning forwards in his leather office chair.

"What are you even wearing?" Derek asks with a teasing smile on his face, reaching out to caress the creamy skin right over the omega's hip bone where he knows Stiles is ticklish.

"Stop that!" Stiles squirms under Derek's large hand, but he doesn't move completely out of arm's reach. "I'm mad at you." The omega struggles to keep the homicidal look on his face.

"You're not mad at me." Derek smiles, kneading his broad thumb against Stiles' hip. "You're in my pants." He smirks teasingly.

"YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT TOOK MY CLOTHES, YOU DOUCHE!" Stiles roars, twisting away for real now.

"What?" Derek laughs incredulously, confused and entertained at the same time. "I _so_ owe her a raise."

"Oh no, " Stiles says, raising a indignant finger. "You do not get to think this is funny, you asshole."

"Why did she take your clothes?" Derek asks around his laughter.

"Because they were so awful I don't even want to talk about it." A petite fiery alpha stomps in to the room. She glares judgmentally up at Derek as Stiles seethes at her. "You cannot let your wife dress like this."

Derek grins, his eyes sliding over Stiles' angry frame. "Oh, I kinda like him the way he is."

Stiles makes a face, sticking out his tongue at Derek. "You would, you pervert."

"You're the one marrying me." Derek laughs.

"You are like the worst friend ever." Stiles groans. "Bros don't let bros marry morons."

"Alright," Lydia is having none of this. "You two are clearly twelve year-olds." She purses her lips. "I'm serious, Derek. If you don't want the state poking around into this marriage you're going to have to make this whole thing look more believable." She eyes Stiles critically. "Starting with his wardrobe."

Stiles laughing face turns back into a scowl. "What are you even doing here, Lydia?" He moans. "It's Christmas!" He turns to Derek. "Do you make her work on Christmas, you monster?"

Lydia studies her nails, stating casually, "Derek and I both suffer from the disease of worka-holism. That's the reason we've tripled our productivity here in the last four years. And anyways, this whole house and everyone in it would fall apart if I took 24 hours off." She fixes the two men with a hawk's stare. "Now listen to me and listen good. This is not a joke. This marriage is not a joke. We live in a community with officials who work in law enforcement, federal judges, and bureau chiefs. There are always eyes watching the Hales, and not all of them are friendly." She looks at Derek, "According the rest of the world, you're taking a second wife. And there are certain expectations that come along with that." She looks as Stiles. "You don't look like a second wife- I can fix that." She looks at Derek. "I called the tailor. They're coming tomorrow. They have the black card on file."

"I look fine." Stiles says, wrapping arms around his skinny torso self-consciously.

"You look like jail bait." Lydia snaps. "If we're going to keep you safe, we're going to need the right tools." She pauses, looking over Stiles. "Police officers have riot gear; you're going to need Armani. _A lot_ of Armani. And a haircut. And a Bently. A Continental GT, I think."

Stiles kicks obstinately at the ground. "This is bullshit." He mutters. "What's even the point?"

"Hey," Derek says gently, grabbing the omega's hand. "She's usually right about these things. It doesn't have to be a big deal. We'll just get you some new things and send out a press release."

Stiles stares at Derek in disgust. "Sometimes I can't even believe you." He says, turning around to stomp out, still bare-chested.


	11. Chapter 10: Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short one- sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Here's my ten cents/ My two cents are free..." 
> 
> For those of you familiar with my work- yes, that time has come. The inevitable author’s note. Thank you for your continued support of my work- my readers are awesome and amazing and thoughtful and invested and just all around fantastic. That being said: If you like it you should put a ring on it and if you don’t, please sit down and turn out something better. I may not spend a whole lot of time on these fics, but they do take a certain amount of mental juggling and keeping all the balls in the air is not as easy as you’d think. (Haha- balls. I’m serious about the ring, though. I’ve only gotten like, three marriage proposals because of my Teen Wolf fanfiction and I feel like that’s not nearly enough to satisfy my histrionic need for gay fiction based adoration.) For those of you who care (none of you,) few things went into inspiration equation of this particular fic. The first was the Shawn/Cory friendship in Boy Meets World. A few of the lines of the dialogue are direct quotes from the TV show. The other inspiration is the real life best friendship of Kate Winslet and Leonard DiCapprio. The way they talk about each other is just beautiful and you should look it up. The third is just the whirlwind of social events that’s going on in my life right now. Anyways, just wanted to speak out as the author, even though I realize once I put my stuff out there, my opinion matters very little. A huge thank you to my long term readers and supporters (yes, I see you. *waves like an embarrassing mom*). You ladies really _get_ me and my work and that you take time to write about it and talk about it means so, so much. Honestly, it’s readers like you that keep me turning work out even when it gets challenging and I loose the will to do it. So much love. Xoxoxo, Loserchic

The door slams behind Stiles leaving Derek and Lydia in the wake of his anger. The office is silent save for the sound of Lydia peevishly clicking her nails against the surface impatient. The petite alpha looks over at Derek expectantly. 

Derek frowns back. “What?” He snaps.

“You going to deal with that or do I have to do everything around here?” Lydia asks, a knowing look in her eyes. 

“Let him worry for a change.” Derek scowls. They stay like that for a moment, Lydia staring him down before Derek turns quickly and opens the door.“Oh, who am I kidding?” He mutters to himself, following Stiles’ scent down the hall and through the foyer. 

Ryanne meets Derek in the front hall. The omega grabs his husband’s arm. “Derek, what’s going on?” Ryanne asks. “What’s Lydia doing here?” 

“Have you seen Stiles?” Derek looks over Ryanne’s shoulder, trying to see out the windows of the front doors.

“Yeah, he came through here a second ago.” Ryanne says, still not letting go of Derek’s arm. “He was... wearing your clothes.”

“Where’d he go?” Derek sighs. 

“Out.” Ryanne says, his blue eyes full of concern for his husband. “He had his bag with him.”

“That little rat bastard.” Derek growls, shouldering his way past his wife out into the yard. 

“Derek, wait-“ Derek can hear Ryanne calling after him but the front door is already slamming behind him. 

Derek reaches the front lawn but there is no sign of the omega in the darkness. He sniffs the air, trying to get a track on Stiles’ scent, but the omega had just come from the shower, and Derek can’t seem to get a real lead. Frowning, Derek pulls out his phone to call the omega, praying he’ll pick up.


	12. Chapter 12: Lost

Once again Stiles does know where he’s headed or what he’ll do when he’ll get there, all he knows is he has to get out. Derek is more than just a person, more than just an alpha to Stiles- Derek is like this force on Stiles’ very being. This is why Stiles stays away. This is why Stiles went cold turkey. Stiles cut Derek out of his life the way you cut off a limb with gangrene It had hurt to do it and he had bled, he was still bleeding from the loss, but every time Stiles gets close to Derek his life ricochets out into the darkness and Stiles ends up lost. Lost and alone. Stiles isn’t proud of it. He knows he can’t keep this up. He knows it’s unfair. But Derek has turned him into a runner. And once again it feels like he’s running for his life. 

Stiles is freezing. He’d grabbed what was left of his things that Lydia hadn’t confiscated and had stalked out of the house barefoot and shirtless like it had been on fire. Derek alone in this world has the ability to make him so senselessly angry, so goddamn immature and crazy Stiles can’t even think straight. He’d pulled out a can of mace from his bag and covered his tracks as well has he could while seeing red, on the off chance that Derek would send someone after him. Stiles is in no mood to be told to count to ten and breathe. Just try and let someone talk sense into him. 

The thing is, Stiles has never been good enough for Derek. How they’d stayed friends all this time was beyond Stiles’ comprehension. It’s only out of the alpha’s misplaced sense of loyalty that they’ve even continued this charade up until now. Stiles is a fuck-up. A low class delinquent with nothing to give and nobody to teach him how to do it. A drifter, and now, a runner. And Stiles knows he can’t change. There’s no way he could ever possibly fit in Derek’s life, no matter what he did, even back when he’d been young and stupid enough to be willing try. Stiles is done trying. Stiles is done hoping he and Derek can ever spend their lives together the way he’d just assumed they would when he’d been a dumb kid. Maybe in another time, in another place, he and Derek could have been life companions, could have had each other forever, but not here and not in this lifetime. And all that is left to do was for Stiles to figure out a way to get it through his own thick skull that this is how it is. 

After walking through the endless, frigid Hale territory for what feels like forever, Stiles sees a brick house in the distance, its bronze windows still alight with a warm orange glow from within. Outside a bonfire pit sits, it’s last dying embers glowing in the night sky. Stiles walks over to what he’s sure is the game keeper’s house and bends over the coals, wrapping his skinny arms around his slim frame. 

“Stiles?” A voice calls out and Stiles looks up to see Boyd coming through the door, out into the yard, a lantern in his hand. “Is that you?”

“Hey.” Stiles nods, not moving away from the pit. He’s a bit embarrassed at how ridiculous he must look at the moment.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Boyd steps closer. “Where are your clothes?” 

“Lydia.” Is all Stiles says. 

“Oh man. That’s rough.” Boyd says. The alpha is whipping off his jacket. He throws it around Stiles’ shoulders. The omega is immediately surrounded by the molasses and brown sugar scent of the other alpha. “Come inside.” Boyd says, herding him into the house. “It’s too damn cold out for a skinny motherfucker like you to be wandering around.” 

Stiles shrugs, allowing himself to be brought into the warm kitchen. The house is neat and tidy, rustic in decor. Boyd sits Stiles at the oak table in one of the wooden mismatched chairs.

“You want something to eat?” The alpha asks. 

“Nah. Thanks though.” Stiles says.

“Course you don’t.” Boyd shakes his head. “I’ll get you some stew.” The alpha ladles him up a hearty earthenware bowl of thick, bubbling stew from the pot hanging over the fireplace before taking a seat next to him. Boyd looks at him. “What’d Derek do now?”

Stiles shrugs again, feeling stupid. “Derek stuff.” 

“Well did you call him?” Boyd asks. “Or did you just take off half naked with no plan like usual?”

Stiles shrugs again. 

“You better call him.” Boyd says. “You know he’ll skin my ass and make me into a rug if he finds out I have you here and he didn’t get so much as a text.” 

“No, he won’t.” Stiles sighs, staring unappealingly down into the bowl. “He’s with his family. He’s got bigger fish to fry than me.”

Boyd shakes his head. “You’re not going to come in my house and bullshit me like that, man. You may be a fearless little shit, but I want to keep my job and my hide. I need them, thank you.”

Stiles smiles weakly at the alpha. “I wouldn’t let Derek do anything to you. I just... I can’t talk to him.”

Boyd looks at the omega quietly. “No, I expect you wouldn’t.” He shakes his head. “Look at you. Not even a day into your engagement and you already have cold feet. Literally. Thank God they don’t make them all like you, Stiles.” 

“You heard about Derek’s dumb idea then.” Stiles frowns. 

“Yeah, I heard.” Boyd says. “News about the boss travels quick around here. Especially when he’s shacking up with a new wife.” 

“There is no ‘shacking up’ going on.” Stiles says sourly. “Derek is just an idiot who thinks if it’s his idea it must be a good idea. You know how he gets.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Boyd says. “But I also know how you get, and I have to tell you, Derek’s had a lot of dumb ideas over the years, but this isn’t one of them.” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Stiles sighs. 

“Uh, because it will save your ass and make the boss happy at the same time.” Boyd looks at Stiles like he’s an idiot. “And I think it’ll make you happy too.”

“I don’t feel happy.” Stiles mutters. 

Boyd laughs, “Stiles, you wouldn’t know happy if it danced bareassed in front of you. That’s always been your problem, man.” 

“I have a lot of problems.” Stiles agrees darkly. 

“Yeah, well this law doesn’t have to be one of them.” Boyd says. “I’m not an omega, but I’m guessing what you’re feeling is natural. The idea of taking on the number two role- even for legal reasons can’t be something that gets too many omegas excited, let alone one as hardheaded as you.”

“I just... I don’t think I can do it.” Stiles sighs, leaning on one hand.

“Oh, you’ll do it.” Boyd says. “It might not be pretty but you’re real, you know? You and I both know this isn’t the time to be cutting your nose off to spite your face.” 

“Derek and I can’t even be in the same room without fighting right now.” Stiles points out.

“What else is new?” Boyd shrugs. “Look, you just need to cool your jets for a bit. You panicked. That’s okay. You just need to calm down and figure out a way through this like you always do.” 

Stiles sighs and he feels like the life has been sucked out of him. “I’m just really tired.” He admits.

“I know.” Boyd nods. “There is some heavy shit going down in that house.” 

“Can I stay here for the night?” Stiles asks.

Boyd looks uncertain. “You going call Derek?”

“Derek won’t care.” Stiles says. “I promise. I just can’t deal with his shit right now.” 

“Alright.” Boyd agrees reluctantly. “You can take one of the free bunks upstairs, but if Derek’s ripped me to pieces by the time you wake up I’m going to haunt your ass.” 

“That’s fair.” Stiles smiles, standing up and allowing Boyd to lead him up the pine staircase. “You live here on your own?” 

“No.” Boyd says. “This is the gamekeeper’s house. I’m only here during the week or when work is really busy. I go home to Erica most weekends. Derek houses some of the hands here. There are four or five guys living here at any given time.” The alpha walks down the hall and stops in front of a door. “This room is empty right now. Try to get some sleep. Nothing good in your brain happens after midnight.” 

“Thanks Boyd.” Stiles says gratefully, he pauses, feeling the old paranoia wash over him. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Derek I’m here. I just... I can’t talk to him without killing him right now.”

“Alright.” Boyd sighs. “I don’t like it but I get it.” 

“Thanks.” Stiles smiles weakly again and goes to lay down in the narrow bed, alone in the small room.


	13. In the Rain

Stiles, the little shit, hadn’t called back. Derek had dropped him about five increasingly capitalized texts before he’d given into his alpha impatience, saddled up his tall black steed, Mathias, and headed out after the stubborn omega, praying he could easily overtake Stiles on horseback. The air had been icy and the chance that Stiles had left without so much as a shirt or shoes weighed heavily on Derek’s mind. Derek had a strong nose and he knew Stiles’ scent better than anyone else’s on earth, but the alpha became soon became frustrated, cursing under his breath as the wind began to pick up with still no trace of Stiles. Derek figured the omega had used mace to cover his tracks, the perfect little idiot- an old party trick the omega had perfected back in their school days. He had no doubt that the Stiles’ tenacity and sheer audacity had saved his ass more than once out there in the wide world, but it was about to get him frost bitten at the very least. Derek didn’t want to think about something worse happening to his best friend, couldn’t even let himself go there. It had started raining, a harsh freezing shower about an hour into Derek’s search. Matthias hadn’t been happy about it, but Derek didn’t even think about turning back to his warm home. Rather, the rain only increased Derek’s anxiety over the whole situation, causing him to spur the horse on faster until they were galloping through the muck, Derek’s keen eyes desperately searching for any sign of movement through the trees.

Eventually it stops raining, but by then any hint of Stiles’ scent has completely washed away in the downpour. Derek’s fists are white, he’s clenching the reins so hard he can barely feel his hands anymore. His eyes survey his land, his ears carefully tuned for every noise, any hint of something out of place in the familiar terrain. As Derek’s anxiety rises, his mood sinks lower and lower. It’s Stiles that does this to him. Stiles with his spitfire temper and his stubborn, complete disregard for his own safety. Stiles, who was apparently born without any self-preservation instincts. Stiles, who both loved and angered Derek openly and fully without any care or thought of the repercussions. Stiles who both awakened and challenged Derek as an alpha, as a carnal protector, and a leader with the most primal and sacred of responsibilities. How could Derek have possibly forgotten the way the omega alone can raise his awareness and drive him to mindless desperation? 

Derek is not used to this, not practiced in being on the Stiles offensive anymore. Derek prides himself on being a gentleman alpha, a modern, sensitive member of his gender. He and the other cultured, well educated alphas at his club often spoke together with distaste and a sort of self-righteous anger about the headlines featuring abusive, possessive alphas. Wife beaters. Stalkers. Alphas with anger problems like wild animals, who only know how to intimidate, how to hold too tightly, how to suffocate, how to crush. And most of the time Derek can say with confidence he is not like that. In most of Derek’s waking every day life, he can’t identify with animals like that in any way shape or form. Then Stiles will pull something like this and all of a sudden Derek left face to face with this ugly, unflattering, terrible part of himself. All of a sudden in one cold, heart-piecing moment Derek can see how a husband might strike down a wife, or follow her obsessively to the ends of the earth. With Stiles alone Derek can see how it happens. You stare at someone who you define your whole life with, and you realize they could destroy you both so easily. It would take almost nothing at all. And all of a sudden you don’t know what to do or how to speak. Your head is too busy panicking and your heart is busy bleeding, and all of a sudden all that’s left is what you can touch, what you can hold. What you can keep.


	14. Sleep Walking

Three am and Derek pulls up to the Game Keeper’s house. Mathias is frothing at the mouth and covered in sweat. Derek allows the horse a much deserved drink. Before Derek can move, the front door swings open and Galen Burns steps out into the yard. The rough living ranch hand has his hat one leathery hand, old jeans on pulled on, his chest still bare. Burns’ keen, ice blue eyes look up at his boss expectantly. The alpha is a broad, sturdy man with weathered skin and blonde hair that is just beginning to show the barest hints of grey. Boyd is Derek’s right hand man, and Galen is Boyd’s right hand man. 

“Burns.” Derek nods from atop the horse. “It’s late for you to be up.” 

“Heard you approach.” The hand nods. “Smelled you on the wind. You’re about as subtle as a forest fire in a drought, Hale.” 

Derek nods. “You were awake?”

“I didn’t live this long sleeping with both eyes shut.” Burns states. 

“Where’s Boyd?” Derek asks, eager to get to the task at hand. 

As if on cue the front door opens again and Boyd walks out, pulling on a work jacket. He looks up at Derek and scowls. “You lose something, Derek?” Boyd raises an eyebrow. 

“Stiles ran off.” Derek says, dismounting gracefully. “Before the storm hit. Have you seen him?” Derek eyes Boyd carefully. 

Boyd’s face is impassive. “I don’t take in strays.” He says lowly.

“I need to find him.” Derek says, his eyes flashing as he thinks of Stiles. 

“Yeah, I expect you do.” Boyd says tiredly.

“There’s a molly upstairs in the spare room. Pretty little thing.” Galen nods at Derek. “He belong to you?”

“Nah,” Boyd levels his eyes at Derek. “That one isn’t suited to domestication.” 

“He’s in there, isn’t he?” Derek growls. Of course Stiles wouldn’t be out there in the rain waiting for Derek to come pull him out of the downpour. How could Derek have forgotten how clever, how resourceful the omega was. Of course he sought out Boyd. Boyd doesn’t answer. “Goddamnit, Boyd! If Stiles is in there you got about half a second to tell me or I’m going to wake this entire house and have you all searching on your hands and knees for him, if it takes all night!” 

Boyd turns and walks over to the house. “It’s your land, Derek.” He says over his shoulder. “Nobody’s stopping you from looking for yourself.” He pauses by the doorway. “Word to the wise- that one always lands on his feet.” 

Derek glares after his friend before following him into the house. Boyd turns once they get through the door. The alpha leans on the table, and Derek follows the man’s eyes to the staircase. He sets his jaw and begins to climb the stairs.


	15. Too Close to the Fire

Derek walks to the end of the hall quietly. It’s so early in the morning and he knows most of the men are probably still asleep. He doesn’t want to wake them, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let Stiles sleep when Derek’s been up half the night searching for the little bastard in the rain and Stiles can’t even be bothered to text. The alpha’s anger and anxiety and worry for his friend is so palpable that he nearly tears the brass knob off the door getting into the last room on the left. 

The omega isn’t asleep. Stiles is a hunched, glowering thing sitting up on the narrow bed in the shadows. There is a dim lantern casting a flickering lattice of shadows and orange light around the small, barren room. Stiles regards Derek lowly, still barefoot, wearing Derek’s sweatpants on his too slim hips. One of Boyd’s sweatshirts hangs open around the omega’s shoulders and Derek is instantly overwhelmed with burning anger and fury and relief and something a lot like longing at the sight of him. Stiles is Derek’s oldest and dearest friend. Derek couldn’t forget the omega if his tried. His smile, his large eyes, his smirks, his thoughtful expressions are all etched carefully away in Derek’s memory and yet... if feels to the alpha as if this is the first time he’s really seeing Stiles, really looking and comprehending and understanding how his friend is now. The omega he’s grown into. How could Derek failed so greatly to notice? How could he not have seen? 

Stiles has always been beautiful and Stiles has always been slender, but the omega who sits before Derek now is a tortured, tired, angry thing. Stiles’ jaw is set and his cheekbones sit over hollow cheeks. His red lips and a bit swollen and scared from being bitten over the years in an unconscious repetitive gesture of self-comfort. The omega’s hands, bony and broad, have ripped nails and scaring on both sides from Stiles’ catching himself in dead falls. His feet are calloused and well traveled. Stiles beautiful, lively eyes, once so alight in humor and curiosity are guarded now. He challenges Derek across the room. Stiles looks at Derek like he hadn’t expected Derek would come, like he expects a fight. All at once it’s like they’re strangers again. 

But Stiles isn’t a stranger. Stiles is the farthest thing from a stranger that Derek can possibly imagine. Stiles is Derek’s. The thought is both alien and as natural as anything Derek has ever known. Stiles has always been Derek’s, and that little shit should have come home if he was suffering in any way. He should have come to Derek- or at the very least he shouldn’t be actively running away. Derek is at once furious with Stiles and furious with himself. Why hadn’t he coaxed Stiles home sooner? Why hadn’t he gone after him years ago? Derek had known in his gut, known as an alpha and as Stiles’ best friend something was seriously wrong here. Why had Derek let the business and every day life cloud his judgment? Derek feels himself clench his fists, looking down. 

Finally Stiles opens his mouth. “What are you doing here?” 

Derek can’t even speak at first, he’s so angry. He looks down at his useless alpha hands. Finally he finds his voice. It comes out hard. “Is this going to become a thing?” 

“What?” Stiles looks up quickly, his eyes flashing angrily.

“You running off and me coming after you?” Derek hears his voice become a growl. He wants to yell at Stiles. He wants to ask him why on earth he’s been so careless with himself. Why he’s been lying through omission to Derek. He wants to beat his fist against the wall until Derek can figure out why he, himself, has been so stupid. Derek feels the alpha in him growling beneath his skin. Burning to come out and demand answers of both of them. 

“Hey!” Stiles snaps, standing up. “It stops whenever you want it to.”

“How do you figure?” Derek snarls, taking a step towards the omega. He can smell Stiles now- that down home scent mixed with a fresh maturity, a new darkness. It’s a different dimension to his old friend. Something new. Something potentially dangerous to them both. The alpha in Derek perks up with interest. He wants to know it for himself. 

Stiles pauses as if sensing something in Derek. He looks at the alpha considering. Eventually he looks away again. There’s a beat of silence, and then he says laughing in humorless way he has, “I figure eventually you’ll stop coming after me.”

“Now see here, you passive-aggressive asshole-“ The alpha does not appreciate the omega’s tone.

“Oh that’s right!” Stiles throws up his hands. “I’m the asshole, Derek. I’m always the irresponsible little shit who’s messing up your perfect life. Why the fuck are you even here?” 

Derek snarls and turns around sharply and swings his fist into the wall. “Goddamn it, Stiles!” He swears. He looks up, glaring at the indignant omega. “Fuck you!” He spits, completely unable to form anything more intelligent. Stiles always made Derek like this. Always made the alpha’s mind unable to keep up with his body. 

“Yeah, fuck me.” Stiles laughs that terrible laugh again. “Fuck me, Derek.” Stiles rolls his head back. “Fuckin’ leave, Derek. We both know you fuckin’ should.” Stiles shakes his head in disgust. “We both know I can’t fuckin’ do this. I never could.” 

“No!” Derek shakes his head violently, trying to summon the words. He is able to at last wrench is alpha mind free from the anger and the fear and the overwhelming desire to crush Stiles to him, to make the omega stop spewing that poison, to make the omega fucking listen for a change. “No!” 

“It’s okay, Derek!” Stiles is clearly not listening. “Let me fucking go. We knew it would come to this eventually. Now you have a good excuse. Just let me fucking go. It’s better for everyone and you know it!” Stiles is livid, pacing. The omega is like something possessed. “Look at me, Derek. I’m asking you to let me go! Do it, goddamn it!” 

“No!” Derek finally finds his voice again, and he reaches out to the omega. Stiles flinches back like Derek is about to strike him, but instead all Derek does is take the omega’s wrists and pull him back down until they’re both sitting on the narrow bed. Stiles looks taken aback, as if that’s the last thing the omega expected in the midst of his tirade. Derek feels hopeless and helpless in the face of Stiles’ fury and all he can do is stare at his best friend, soothing his thumbs over Stiles’ wrists, praying the omega will calm. Finally Derek is able to spit out, “I came to ask you something.”

Stiles is staring down at their hands. “What’s that?” Stiles eyes are guarded, his cheeks still flushed in anger.

Derek opens his mouth but at first the words don’t come. He tries again and is finally able to choke out, “When did you stop trusting me?”

“What?” Stiles’ eyes flash up to Derek’s face, all anger gone, only earnest surprise left.

“It was always you and me against the world.” Derek offers quietly. “We were a team. When did that change?”

Stiles meets Derek’s gaze at first, and then his beautiful eyes cloud and he drops his gaze again. “Things change.” Stiles mutters. 

Derek nods for a moment, sitting there quietly. Then the alpha speaks up again. “I haven’t.” He says. “Not about this. Not about you. I’m still here. I’m still the same person I was the day we met, the same person who sprung you from detention a hundred times, the person who sat up with you countless nights, the person who knows everything about you and still wants to hear everything that’s on your mind all the time.” Derek frowns, trying to find the words to speak honestly, to make the omega understand. “I haven’t changed. You did, Stiles. Somewhere along the line it stopped being you and me against the world and became just... you.” Derek swallows, feeling Stiles’ hands against his own. “You stopped trusting me and I want to know why.” 

Stiles is silent for a moment and Derek thinks he doesn’t deserve the omega’s thoughts, doesn’t deserve Stiles’ honesty anymore. Derek obviously hasn’t been a good friend to Stiles, hasn’t been a good alpha to him, or the omega wouldn’t be as upset and ready to fight as he is now. Derek doesn’t know where he went wrong, or how and now he’s going to loose Stiles because of it.

All of a sudden Derek feels Stiles’ trembling hand cupping his jaw. A caress. The softest trailing of skin against skin. Derek feels Stiles’ hand run down his neck, over his collar bone. 

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Stiles says softly. “It’s me. I messed things up between us, Derek. I mess things up.” Stiles looks at Derek. “It’s me.” 

Derek can’t bare that. Stiles is his friend. Derek is the alpha and he should have been there for him, he should have known. Whatever happened and whatever is happening now should be in Derek’s power to fix. “No.” Derek says, leaning forwards until his nose is grazing the omega’s forehead. Derek presses down, leaving the faintest trace of his scent on the omega’s skin. “Look at you. You’re tired.” Derek sighs, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“Yeah.” Stiles breathes, shivering slightly under the alpha’s touch. 

“Just come home.” Derek feels himself say. “Please. I hate it when you do this. Please.”

“Okay.” Stiles sighs. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Derek asks. “For real this time? Because I can’t take this. I hate when you do this. You have to come home, Stiles. You have to be real about this.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Stiles closes his eyes, leaning against Derek’s chest. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.” 

“I just want you to be okay.” Derek says. 

“I will be.” Stiles says. “I’ll be good.”

“Okay.” Derek nods, placated for the moment. “Good.” He wraps his arms around the omega, feeling the smaller man shudder against him. “Good.”


	16. Where You Are Again

How did he end up here? And why was he letting this happen? Stiles knows Derek and he knows himself. The only way this works, the two of them, is at a distance. Keeping Derek at arm’s length is the only way _Stiles_ works. Threatening each other at emotional knife point. Point blank anger. Bulletproof vests of frustration and willful misunderstandings. All that. Stiles knows that is healthier than this- than what’s happening now. And he’s letting it happen.

Because Stiles is weak.

One moment Derek is furious. And Stiles’ mouth is spewing anything and everything he can think of to keep the alpha that way. One moment Stiles is strong. He’s gathered the strength and reason and will to leave Derek again and he’s bracing himself for what will likely be their last fight, their last devastating separation. And then, just like that- Stiles is chest to chest, breath for breath with Derek, allowing the alpha to cradle him in his arms. Allowing him to mark him with his intoxicating scent. There with Derek. Really there with him. Not hiding behind anger or fronting with hurtful words. Somehow, he’s let Derek see his weakness again, his fear, and in that, Stiles knows he’s betraying Derek.

Stiles feels like he’s manipulating Derek by letting the alpha see the truth. He knows, he understands better than anyone the pressure Derek feels, the responsibility the alpha takes on himself to protect and nurture everyone around him. Derek is an alpha through and through, and at his core he has the overwhelming need to sooth, to calm, take care of people. Of course Derek would see an inability to harbor Stiles from this law, regardless of actual fault, as a personal failure. Of course it would destroy his fundamental sense of self. And Stiles can’t do that to Derek. He can’t let Derek blame himself for this, not when it's in his power to stop it. Because Derek is an alpha and a normal fucking functional person and Derek can’t possibly understand how it is for Stiles. How the very notion of this sham of a marriage and playing house in front of everyone sends Stiles into a suffocating panic. Derek couldn’t possibly get how Stiles might not have Derek and he might not have a stable place in this world, but he’s always had his truth and Stiles has always been real with himself about how things are. And Stiles selfishly guards this. Derek asking him to do this, the world asking him to do this, is Stiles giving up the last thing he has. And somehow, deep in the core of who Stiles is as an omega, he knows this could end him.

But Stiles knows here, right now. He has to accept that. He is going to go through with this because Derek deserves all the peace in his life he can have. And furthermore, Derek shouldn’t have to be exposed to just how messed up Stiles really is.

This isn’t even the first time they’ve shared a small single bed. Growing up with their different genders, Derek and Stiles had never officially been allowed to have a sleep-over. However, what was actually allowed had never much bothered them, and parental supervision was always lax to nonexistent in Stiles’ uncles house, so Derek had often snuck in through the window and climbed in bed with Stiles. The two boys had laid on their stomachs with flashlights and stayed up talking and laughing to all hours of the night. Eventually the lights would go off and Stiles would drift off to sleep to the sound of Derek’s voice in the darkness. Hovering over him, safe and protective like the alpha’s scent. Derek would always sneak out before daylight, his scent still lingering on the sheets.

Stiles can hear Derek’s breath now. Even and tempered like the tides. He’s content, making soft noises in his ear like he did when they were kids. Stiles feels like a corpse, cold and splayed over the alpha’s warm broad chest, like one already dead. Unable to move. And honestly, if he died like this, right here, right now, he wouldn’t mind. He dreads moving. He dreads everything they have to do after this.

“So,” Derek says into the darkness, his voice close. “You gonna marry me?” Stiles tenses and the alpha puts his large hand on Stiles’ back. An unconscious gesture of comfort.

“I said I would.” Stiles finally says.

There’s silence. Then Derek says, “I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this.”

“I know.” Stiles says flatly.

“It’s a solid plan.” Derek offers.

“It is.” Stiles agrees.

“Then what’s wrong?” Derek says.

Stiles takes a breath, frustrated. He pauses for a moment. “Can you see how maybe this would be hard for me?”

Derek’s brows crumple in thought. “I know you hate change.” He says. “I know you hate having to do anything anyone thinks you should.”

“Yeah.” Stiles huffs. “That’s it.”

“I know this seems overwhelming.” Derek continues in a soothing, reasonable voice that seems to have exactly nothing to do with everything Stiles is feeling inside. “But you’re not alone in this. My mom, my sisters, Ryanne, Lydia, everyone- we’re here for you. We’re going to make this work.”

Stiles swallows. “Sure.” He turns his face into Derek’s chest and buries himself in the alpha’s warmth, just letting himself Derek’s solid frame under him.

“Hey,” Derek’s hand comes up to run through Stiles’ hair and down his sensitive omega neck. His voice is unbearably tender. “Stop it. I can hear you thinking from here.” The alpha sighs. He runs his broad thumb over the back of the omega’s neck where a mating bite would go and Stiles is positive it’s an accident. “You know, in an odd way I’m glad this is happening.” Derek says. “It’s just... it’s good to have you home. And this isn’t forever. You’ll have your freedom back soon.”

“I know.” Stiles says, repeating himself dully.

“I just thought you’d be as happy to be here with me as I am to be with you again.” Derek says simply.

Stiles sighs, hating himself. “I am happy, Derek.” He says. “I just never was good with people.”

“You’ve always been good with me.” Derek says. “So don’t worry about the rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Stiles agrees, closing his eyes.


	17. Urgency

To Derek’s immense relief, Stiles sleeps for a time after their talk. Despite being up the entire night in a storm, Derek does not. As the omega rests pliantly against Derek’s chest he’s reminded of how much Stiles’ own emotions take a toll on his friend. There is something almost childlike about the way Stiles can be so easily whipped into a violent, angry frenzy and then, the second the moment has passed , all Stiles wants to do is withdraw, as if he needs as little simulation as possible to recharge and right himself. Some primal part of Derek’s brain knows it is good for the omega to be with Derek when Stiles’ has been pushed to the point of sheer emotional exhaustion. It is good that the omega can still fall asleep with him so easily, so naturally, that some subconscious part of the omega still trusts Derek to protect him and care for him while he sleeps. Where Stiles is tense and unyielding and willful while he’s awake, the omega’s body hungrily melts into Derek’s in his sleep, unconsciously giving the omega the pure tactile sensation of comfort and safety he seems to crave. There is something deeply satisfying about Stiles when he’s asleep in Derek’s arms. For the moment Stiles is safe and calm and resting. He’s not threatening to run and get himself hurt, and Derek knows for the moment, if only for this one moment, everything is right in Derek’s world. 

Derek is loath to wake the omega, but he also knows Lydia, Ryanne, and Laura will quite literally send the dogs after them both. It’s occurred to Derek over the last twenty-four hours that he and Stiles need to get married as soon as physically possible. In the deepest, most primitive part of Derek’s alpha mind, he’s began registering threats to the omega everywhere. Whether it’s the law, other faceless alphas, or Stiles’ own stubborn will, there are simply too many variables out there at the moment that could throw this whole situation into chaos and this does not sit well with Derek at all. Derek has always known he wants Stiles, like everyone Derek loves, by his side, safe and well cared for, preferably in his home, but this recent event has simply accelerated Derek’s sense of urgency about this. Yes. They need to be married. Possibly yesterday. Derek finds himself desperate for the legal means to protect Stiles. He needs tangible evidence, an absolute, solid guarantee that nothing and nobody will be able to rip Stiles from his side. Derek is an alpha, and safeguards and certainty are important to him. 

With the urgency to see this marriage done, Derek carefully rolls the omega’s exhausted body away from his own. He frowns at the sight of Boyd’s jacket, and moves to pull it off Stiles. 

“Wha-?” Stiles blinks his eyes open, looking up at Derek in a haze of exhaustion. 

“Shhh...” Derek soothes, pulling the garment from the omega’s shoulders. He evenly takes off his own coat and wraps it around Stiles’ thin torso. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.” 

“Ufff.” Stiles makes an annoyed noise and closes his eyes again. 

Derek smiles and scoops the omega up, cradling Stiles close to his chest. It’s early morning and still cold outside and Derek wants to keep Stiles as warm as possible. He carries his limp friend down the stairs and out into the yard. Boyd is outside feeding Mathias. He looks up at the other alpha’ approach.

“We’re going home.” Derek nods to his right hand man. 

Boyd looks at the omega. “See you at the wedding, I guess.” He says. 

Derek nods, shifting Stiles in his arms so he can mount the horse. “Soon.” He grunts. 

“Be nicer to that horse, Derek.” Boyd says. “That omega isn’t his fault.” 

Derek pats Matthias’s neck affectionately. “He knows what’s up.” Derek says, and then spurs the horse into a cantor back to the great house.


	18. The Matriarch

As Matthias turns into the yard, Derek notices two vehicles pulled up to the great house that hadn’t previously been there. Two black luxury sport utility vehicles, to be exact. Derek doesn’t know whether to be relieved or roll his eyes. As it turns out, he doesn’t have much time to do either. The front door is thrown open and Lydia and Ryanne dash outside like they’re in a race to see which one of them gets to chew him out first.

Ryanne wins speed-wise, Lydia is still wearing a pair of Marc Jacob’s pumps, but she’s also louder.

“Derek!” Ryanne starts, looking up at his husband.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Lydia hollers, her voice traveling faster than her petite body. Lydia never out-runs anything she can’t out-argue.

Derek dismounts from the horse, shifting Stiles to his shoulder. “Where do you think?” Derek eyes the omega.

“Derek, it’s been storming-“ Ryanne says.

“I just want you two idiots to know you’ve officially used up your allotted man-trums for this wedding!” Lydia says, ignoring Ryanne. “We don’t have time for this!”

“I know.” Derek nods, stepping towards the house. “We don’t have time.”

“Your daughter and I have been worried sick!” Ryanne exclaims, grabbing Derek’s arm.

“She has?” Derek’s eyes fill with worry as he speeds his entrance into the warm foyer. “Oh man-“

“Cambria has been sleeping like the little devil she is.” Lydia corrects. “I, on the other hand, have been up this whole time trying to plan the social event of the year in under a week!”

“Lydia, I’m getting married.” Derek says, exasperated. “I don’t have time for anything else that might be up your sleeve.” Lydia stares at him like he’s a complete moron, but waits for Derek to get it. “Oh.” He says, stopping in the front hall. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” Lydia says, she peers at Stiles like he’s a bug on a pin. “How’s wifey doing, by the way?”

Stiles opens his eye and immediately looks like he regrets it. “Christ.” The omega groans, beginning to squirm. Derek only tightens his grip and shifts Stiles to a more comfortable position. “Let me down, asshole.” Stiles says groggily, and Derek reluctantly complies.

Stiles blinks around the bright room, still a bit unsteady on his feet. “Hey.” Derek reaches out to steady him. Stiles shrugs him off tersely, “Coffee.” He growls, heading for the kitchen.

“Seconded.” Derek says, following him.

“Breakfast is on the table.” Lydia says evenly. She reaches out and grabs Derek’s shoulder, pulling him aside as Ryanne follows Stiles into the other room. “Your mother is here.” She says, eyeing him.

“No shit.” Derek sighs. “She knows?”

“Your mom knows everything.” Lydia shrugs.

“Doubtless.” Derek says. “I supposed Laura and Cora filled her in.”

“There wasn’t much to tell.” Lydia says. She twists her lips. “She guessed.”

“Huh?” Derek looks down at his personal assistant.

“She came flying in here about two hours ago and was all, _‘Where’s my son’s bride? Not you, Ryanne- my son’s other bride.’_ ” Lydia mimics Talia perfectly.

“I bet she did.” Derek says. “She probably has this place bugged.” He turns and heads into the kitchen.

Cambria is seated next to her grandmother at the kitchen island in front of an impressive display of fried eggs, thick bacon slices, pancakes, jugs of juice, fresh baked cinnamon rolls, and a copper kettle of coffee. Cambria has a pile of presents next to her plate and is daintily sipping children’s fruit tea from a Christmas tea cup. Cora is wearing a over-sized Vogue t-shirt and pajama shorts, her curls flying all over her face. She and Stiles hold mugs of coffee with a death grip. Laura, her omega, Kent, and Ryanne are watching the others silently from opposite corners of the room. Talia is smiling at Stiles with that dignified, steely way Derek remembers from childhood.

“It’s far too cold for you to go riding at this time of the morning.” Talia is saying to Stiles, an emerald ring glinting on her hand.

“Yes ma’am.” Stiles nods.

“But my son never did have any sense.” Talia sniffs, taking a sip of coffee from a porcelain mug.

“I’m right here, Mom.” Derek says, leaning over to kiss his mother on the cheek.

“Yes, I know, dear.” Talia says stiffly, adjusting the ivory lapel on her Donna Karan skirt suit. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Derek says. “I’m so sorry you had to be on the hill yesterday.”

“That-“ Talia says darkly, “is a regrettable business. Regrettable indeed. Not the way the state should be run at all. Not at all. My Bruce is still there dealing with the fallout. He insisted I leave and come here though, it being the holidays and... everything else. But-” She looks at Derek and Stiles knowingly. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

There’s a moment of silence where Stiles looks infinitely embarrassed and sheepish. “Uh. Yeah.” The omega says. “Surprise?”

Talia sniffs elegantly, eyeing the omega. “For whom do you imagine this is a surprise, dear?” She asks.

“Er.” Stiles flushes. “Me?”

“Ah.” Talia nods politely. “I’m sure.” She turns back to her son. “You always were a procrastinator, Derek. You didn’t get that from me, you know. Regardless, I expect we’ll do the best with what time we have.” She turns to Lydia. “Lydia, darling, be a lamb and bring me my bag.” Lydia dutifully brings over a giant black Prada satchel, and Talia begins riffling through it with a vengeance. “I have been on the phone since that abomination passed.” Talia says. “I have the caterers all set up and ready to go- the ones who did Laura’s wedding. We liked them, don’t you remember? Best cuts of meat I think I’ve seen at an event. And Chief Justice Allen has graciously agreed to do the ceremony, of course.” She looks up at the boys. “Did you give thought to where you’d like to get married?”

Stiles stares dumbly at the elegant older alpha. “Uh... catering what?” He asks.

“The reception, dear.” Talia says impatiently. She takes out a thick wad of magazines from her purse and deposits them on the table. Titles such as _Modern Omega Bride_ , and _Omega in White_ stare up at them all.

“Oh.” Derek watches all blood drain from Stiles’ face. “I mean, I thought... if this absolutely has to happen... I mean, I thought we’d go down to a courthouse or something...” Stiles looks down at the floor. “There isn’t any reason anyone should have to fuss over this. It’s not like... a big deal.”

“Hm.” Talia looks pensive. Then the alpha matriarch pushes her chair back. “Excuse me, darling.” She says to her granddaughter. “Derek I want a word with you and your fiancee in your office. Now.” Talia turns and sweeps from the room leaving only silence.

Derek sighs and grabs Stiles, wrist. “Come on.” He says. “You’ve done it now.”

“What?” Stiles mutters, still looking somewhat sheepish and pale. “What have I done?”

“Just do me and favor and nod and agree with whatever she says." Derek sighs.

"Why is every woman you're close to insane?" Stiles mutters.


	19. The Wedding Plan

Talia is seated in Derek’s office by the time Stiles and Derek get through the door and Stiles is immediately hit with the memories of being called to the dean’s office with Derek countless times during their childhood. Feeling as though he’s somehow in trouble again, he slouches in after Derek, half hiding behind the alpha.

“Take a seat, boys.” Talia says crisply.

“Mom, is this really ness-“ Derek starts up.

“Take a seat.” Talia orders.

Stiles and Derek gulp collectively and do as they’re told. Stiles folds his arms in front of himself and turns to look at the intimidating alpha warily.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a chat like this, hasn’t it, boys?” Talia says.

“Yes, ma’am.” Stiles and Derek agree politely, waiting for the hammer to drop.

“Now,” Talia starts evenly. “I know the passing of this law has to be a shock to y’all. It gave this old broad quite a start. Believe you me- it will not go unchallenged.” She pinches her lips together. “But I have lived enough years to know we can’t waste time boo-hooing over yesterday's spilt milk when there’s a cow that needs milking today.” She fixes Derek with an intense stare. “We are Hales- we do right by our people. And if we can’t do right, we fix it until we can.” She takes a breath. “I don’t agree with the way you went about this, Derek, and I don’t mind telling you that.”

“Derek’s been doing the best he can.” Stiles interjects quickly. “It’s me that’s been upsetting everyone.”

“I am speaking to my son, Stiles.” Talia says, although not unkindly. “I will get to your foolishness in a minute.” She turns back to Derek. “Look at this boy, Derek.” She says, indicating to Stiles. “Does that look like a healthy omega to you?”

“I’m fine!” Stiles insists. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

“We are a family, Derek Hale.” Talia continues. “And I _know_ it’s not my son who’s let this boy run around the country, hiding from these laws by himself, living like a hobo, like he has no home or family. You know the risks, Derek. The far right have their supporters- more than you or I would like to think about. Some of those backwards fools get violent. Crime against omegas are at an all time high. Now you’ve made something of yourself here, Derek, and I’m proud of you. You’re a good businessman and a good father. But if you can’t protect the most vulnerable among us, you’re no use as an alpha, and that isn’t how I raised my son.”

Derek sighs. “I know, Mom.”

“Do you?” Talia asks sharply. “Is my mind going or were you out chasing Stiles around the woods all night last night?” Derek looks down and sighs deeply. “It’s no wonder the boy is on the fence about marrying you, Derek.” Talia says. “When have you ever shown some consistency with him over the past ten years? It’s no wonder he doubts if you can take care of him during this difficult time.”

“Talia,” Stiles says, not wanting the alpha to have the wrong idea. “That isn’t it. I just... I’m not comfortable with interrupting Derek’s family. You know- your granddaughter?”

“Yes, I am well aware of how uncomfortable this situation is, Stiles.” Talia says, her voice steady and reasonable. “And I know this isn’t happening when or how anyone would have liked, but you are an unmated omega of childbearing age and that is a crime for which there are grave punishments these days. That is the unhappy reality. Now, I consider you a member of my family. My son loves you and we are willing to go to any lengths to protect you.” Talia straightens herself in her chair and sets her cool, focused eyes on Stiles. “Stiles, do you intend to marry my son?”

Stiles takes a breath. “I guess, I don’t have many options, ma’am.”

“I recognize this must be difficult for you.” Talia says. “Accepting a role in my son’s household is a serious and solemn matter and we will treat it as such, regardless of how it came about.” She eyes Stiles. “There are certain... expectations that must be upheld for the public. The more normal this seems, the safer you are.” She smiles, “And anyways, you are officially joining my family. I see that as cause for celebration.”

“I just don’t think we need to make a big deal out of this.” Stiles says weakly.

“Stiles,” Derek says, reaching out to the omega. “It’s going to be okay. Can’t you just relax and enjoy yourself for a minute?”

Stiles stares at Derek in horror. “We’re getting married.”

“Yes, we are.” Derek says, taking Stiles’ hand. “With caterers and a chief justice and whatever else Lydia and my mom think is necessary to keep you safe. And you’re going to be fine.”

Stiles shakes his head, looking sideways at Derek. “Do you have any conception of what we’re doing?”

“Yeah.” Derek says. “I think I do.”

“Well, I don’t.” Stiles says, his eyes desperate.

“Derek, the gentlemen from _Alpha Quarterly_ will be here tomorrow to interview the two of you for an article they’re doing about your second marriage.” Talia interjects. She sighs, “And there is the matter of the ring. I’m sure I can find another appropriate heirloom.”

“I don’t need a ring.” Stiles sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t worry about that, Mom.” Derek says quickly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?” Talia looks skeptical. She turns to Stiles. “I picked out Ryanne’s ring.” Stiles remembers the nine carat canary yellow marquise diamond ring Ryanne always wore. “It was a cocktail ring of my mother’s.” Talia says. “I thought it was rather... fitting.”

“His ring is beautiful.” Stiles assures her politely. He turns back to Derek. “I don’t need anything- really. Just a band.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek says, standing up. “Well, Mom. He’s going to marry me. We done here?”

“For now.” Talia says with a smile. “For now.”


	20. A Picture of Enduring Love

Old Love, New Beginings

By L. Stafford for Alpha Quarterly Online Breaking News Edition

Bring up the name, Derek Hale in any of the poshest alpha gentleman's clubs around the country and a number of things will immediately come to mind. The only son of Washington DC power player, Talia Hale, is a physically striking alpha who is known as much for his flawless personal style as he is for his charisma and rock solid leadership in the boardrooms. Not yet 30, Hale is the MVP of a fast up and coming generation of camera-ready business moguls, a new kind of executive with the brains of Bill Gates and the bodies of Beckham. Over the last few years, Hale has steadily grown his business into a pivotal player in his industry, continuing to expand the empire under the Hale name at a seemingly unprecedented level.

Despite, or perhaps because of his prominence in the business world, Hale has always been notoriously private about his personal life. Nine years ago Hale wed socialite, Ryanne (née Howlette,) the only son of former Governor of Arizona, Lindsay Howlette, and the two had their only child, an alpha daughter soon after. For a while it seemed to the public that while Hale's business ventures continued to grow, the alpha was content with the size of his family. Therefore, it was a shock to those of us who have been following the fabulous life and times of the Hale dynasty here at Alpha Quarterly, when Derek Hale announced that the newest addition to his portfolio would not be another product line or target consumer audience, but a new wife. However, as we would learn, Hale's fiancee, Stiles Stilinski is not new to the family at all.

Standing with Derek Hale in the private office of his vast Beacon Hills estate can be an intimidating experience. As a young alpha at the top of his competitive field, intimidation seems like it would be second nature to Hale, but as we sat down with him and his fiancee, another side of Hale started to emerge- and this one seemed completely alien to Hale's iron-willed public persona.

Derek's whole face lights up with a boyish grin as he watches our makeup team brushing powder on his fiancee's face from across the room, making him look more like a prep school quarterback with a crush than a seasoned businessman. And perhaps this is fitting; Derek tells us he's known Stilinski since he was seven years-old and they were both pupils at Fairest Academy, a renowned coed prep school the Hales have been attending for generations.

"He is so beautiful." Hale says, obviously still in awe of his bride-to-be after all the years they spent as friends. Stilinski turns and, noticing Hale's attention, makes a face and sticks out his tongue, causing Hale to laugh in delight. "He's always been like that." Hale tells us, adoringly. "Always."

To those of us at _Alpha Quarterly_ , what we're seeing doesn't seem like a newly engaged couple filled with pre-wedding jitters and youthful infatuation. Rather, Hale and Stilinski are together a picture of enduring love. The two are more than comfortable with each other; Hale wordlessly pours cream into Stilinski's coffee and the omega cheekily eats the tomatoes off the alpha's plate. Stilinski is a lithe, slender omega with large limpid eyes and a ever-present mischievous smirk. He playfully swats at his life long best friend turned future husband and isn't afraid to poke fun at him. Stilinski is different than any other member of a Hale entourage we've seen here at _AQ_ over the years, and Hale seems different around him. Hale is the most relaxed we've ever seen him, casually affectionate and at the same time hawkishly protective. Hale doesn't let Stilinski out of his sight during the whole of our stay- a fact they both seem to find amusing when pointed out.

"He's a flight risk." Hale laughs. He turns to Stilinski. "You don't get to look at me like that when I know you."

"Think about what I know about you!" Stilinski counters with a grin. "If I haven't dumped you yet, it's probably never going to happen. Idiot." He adds for good measure.

So why now, after all this time? Recent changes in omega legislation have garnered a lot of public protest from the Hale family, and many Washington insiders have long since considered this young generation of Hales too progressive to take more than one wife. However, when asked, Hale's answer is simple and heartfelt.

"Stiles and I always planned to spend our lives together." He says, reaching for the omega's hand. "I realized recently the rest of my life is already here, has already started, and I don't want to spend any more of it without him. The older I've gotten, the more important it's been to have him physically here, with me."

"We've been friends a long time." Stilinski nods. "I can't ignore something that's important to him."

The Hales are planning a lavish but small wedding for New Year's Eve with the couple's closest friends and family. Hale says his first wife is very supportive of their daughter's godfather coming to officially join their family. The couple has decided to put off a honeymoon until further notice, as Derek is expected to be called away on business shortly after the winter holidays.


	21. Tidal Wave

Stiles looks down at the print version of the online article that was posted a few days before. He drops it on the glass coffee table in front of him like it’ll burn. The photo AQ printed of the two of them to accompany the article, the only official ‘engagement’ photo that exists of them, leers up at him, staring Stiles down. In the picture Stiles sits perched up on a large, open window in Derek’s office, leaning forwards, both palms braced against the sill. Derek is sitting in the office chair he’s rolled up next to Stiles and is leaning up and over to whisper something in Stiles ear, a smile gracing the alpha’s handsome lips, his eyes alight with whatever secret the two of them are sharing. Stiles is barefoot and his legs are casually swung over into Derek’s lap, one resting on the alpha’s thigh. Stiles is looking down and away from the camera, his eyes focused on whatever is coming from Derek’s lips. 

Stiles turns the magazine over with a definitive swat. On second thought he picks it up and tosses it across the room in disgust. 

It’s been five days since they were interviewed- six since Stiles agreed to this joke. And make no mistake, this whole thing is a joke. Stiles is an omega, a funny looking one who grew up on the wrong side of the socioeconomic tracks who could never quite learn how to swallow instead of spit, so he’s been a joke to enough people to know. The sheer amount of lies in that article has got to be some kind of new record, truly. Stiles has known since he was a kid that Derek and the Hale family are fascinating to a lot of people for all kinds of jacked up reasons and people love to lie about the alpha. Often times, it isn’t even malicious. The curious and bored public simply like reading into things that aren’t there. Stiles understands how this can go. It would be easy for Stiles to take Derek’s simple friendship and unwavering alpha loyalty and pervert it into something intense and covertly prurient, something that could change the foundation of Stiles’ existence. But Stiles knows better. He knows not to fuck with what you can’t recover from losing. And Stiles might be a joke, but he’s not stupid. Stiles isn’t the kind of omega who inspires intense, carnal emotions in alphas. Stiles isn’t like Ryanne and there are reasons Derek married that beautiful, graceful, sweet omega out of his own volition years ago. Stiles would do well to remember that. 

Stiles can’t honestly remember if he’s ever actually allowed himself the luxury of fantasizing about his wedding day since hitting puberty. Probably not. More than likely it’s because Stiles deals elusively in reality and it has always been a good educated guess to say his wedding day would end up... less than ideal. Which, it totally has. There’s also likely something fitting about this because overall, Stiles is a less than ideal omega. He remembers somebody saying a long time ago that the best possible thing in life would be to marry your best friend. Well, Stiles is all set to do that exact thing in less than an hour, and he’s positive this whole idea ( and possibly his whole life,) is an unmitigated disaster. 

However, much like a natural disaster, one this thing got started there wasn’t much Stiles could do slow it down, much less stop it. Once Talia joined forces with Lydia and Laura the wedding preparation crashed over them all like a giant wave in a hurricane. All Stiles could do is watch helplessly as about a million florists, caterers, tailors, and event planners stormed Derek’s estate. He found himself ushered here and there with barely a break in-between to sleep and shit. Alpha women, Stiles decided, were evil and something about weddings brought out the most militaristic qualities in them. Even Cambria seemed to be thoroughly enjoying using Stiles as her human mannequin. In the end, Cambria picked the flowers and most of the decor. It seemed to give the nine year-old much more joy than Stiles could even imagine conjuring up at the sight of fabric swatches. Anyways, what did Stiles know about wedding planning? It seemed like the less he had to think these days, the saner he was. 

Laura had corralled him in his room about an hour ago and this was the first time Stiles had been left on his own for more than two minutes since AQ had come to the manor. He sits perched on the edge of a velvet settee in his fine white silk wedding clothes, too anxious to be worried about wrinkling them. Laura had designed them and ordered them from Paris and Stiles thinks they cost more than everything he owns put together. A brass clock on the sideboard counts down the minutes, each movement on the hands like mocking, mechanical laughter. Stiles feels like a prisoner on death row praying for a stay of execution. Who’s going to call though? There are like four current or ex-governors downstairs all waiting to witness the ‘blessed’ event. Once again, Stiles finds himself as his own hero, his own savior. Nobody is going to do the right thing but him. Nobody else knows the truth the way he does. 

The thing about being transient, about not having a home base for a long time is you realize real quickly everything is relative. You lose faith in a lot of things. Stiles doesn’t have faith in the system of do right and everything will be right anymore and he doesn’t have faith in himself, but throughout it all Stiles has never quite been able to shake his faith in Derek and his faith in love. Stiles believes that everything can fall apart and God knows it has. He’s fallen apart and the world feels like it’s falling apart and Derek is still here. Derek is his constant. And Stiles will always love Derek for that. 

Stiles stands up abruptly, moving before he can even register his intention. He can’t do this. All of a sudden the air around Stiles has gone stale and his wedding garments feel like they’re choking him, strangling the life out of him, raw against his skin. The room feels like it’s spinning and at the same times something suddenly feels very clear: Derek is the one good, untainted, beautiful thing in Stiles’ life. How can he repay the alpha’s friendship like this? How could he have agreed to perpetrate this lie? Maybe if Stiles didn’t love Derek he could do this. Maybe if Stiles didn’t know Derek the way he knows him. But Derek is the best part of Stiles and if he lets this happen that will change. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day Derek will see this for what it is and resent Stiles for it. One day he’ll understand that if Stiles loved him he never would have agreed to this. And the knowledge will poison Derek against him. And Stiles will deserve it. 

Stiles doesn’t believe in much, but he believes this. He needs a way out. The omega begins pacing around, searching for the most viable exit, his panicked mind focused solely on one pulsating, cold, repeating thought. He needs to leave. He needs to disappear. Now.


	22. Reformed

Escape. The need is so overwhelming and powerful, the fight or flight omega response there in his pounding blood and itching flesh. Stiles retches, reaching for the window, elbowing it open with one blind hand. But his world is once again spinning out from under him and he has to close his eyes. Try to breathe. 

The thing you have to understand about love is, somethings you can't just come back from. Somethings change you. Some things just leave scars. They take you and reform you. Somethings deform you. Stiles guesses being in love- really being in love, the kind of love Derek and Ryanne have, is like that. Being without love is like that too. 

Before Derek Stiles was friendless. He was independent and alone in a world of busy adults who always had problems that were bigger and more pressing that a small omega child. After Stiles left, he was alone again, but it was different this time because Stiles was able to recognize his alone-ness. And only having yourself can really do something to you, to the way you think. You start thinking in terms of exits, contingency plans, escape routes. You no longer see opportunities- you see threats. You see glass instead of windows. You become very precious about what can hurt you when you know there is no help coming. It's hard to get out of that way of thinking once you've been there the way it's hard to remember a sunburn in the dead of winter. 

Of course Stiles had forgotten Derek's scent. 

In the darkness behind Stiles' eyelids Stiles is suddenly not alone. There is a breath like the quietest first ray of sunlight on the first dawn after creation began and Stiles knows he's most likely fucked but he's also no longer alone. 

"Stiles?" Derek's voice causes the omega's eyes to snap open. He's leaning halfway out the open window, staring down two stories below him out on frozen ground. "What are you doing?" 

Stiles feels himself collapse against the sill, the room still spinning slightly. He ends up on his knees against the wall. Derek is there immediately, squatting down next to him, his strong alpha arm cradling Stiles, his other hand cupping Stiles' jaw up. 

"Are you okay? What the devil were you doing?" Derek's face is right in Stiles, his eyes wide in concern. 

Stiles swallows, blinking, coming back to reality quickly. He looks down immediately. "Nothing." He says, but his voice sounds unconvincing to his own ears. "I just... I needed some air." He looks back at Derek. "What are you doing here? Don't we have a... like a thing soon?" 

"Yeah," Derek smiles, still looking slightly uncertain. "Yeah, we do. You okay?" He strokes Stiles face gently, at the same time pressing Stiles closer to his chest. Stiles squirms out of reflex, trying to keep himself away from the alpha's warmth. "You look sick." 

"I'm fine." Stiles swallows, sitting back on his heels. "I'm good." 

Derek's eyes dart over to the window, flashing slightly. "Wait- were you... were you going to climb out the window?" He sounds like he doesn't want to believe it, like he thinks he might be going a little crazy for even thinking that.

Stiles hesitates a moment too long. "No." He chokes. "I just... I was hot. Of course I wasn't going to jump out the window. Did you know there are four governors downstairs? I'm not... crazy." Stiles bravely meets Derek's eye, trying his best to look indignant. "Isn't it bad luck to see me before the wedding, asshole?" 

Derek seems to have chosen to accept Stiles' rebuke. He grins. "Bad luck can't touch us." 

"Yeah," Stiles mutters, rolling his eyes. "I guess that ship has sailed. And sunk."

"Stiles," Derek's voice is quiet. "You... you said you'd marry me." 

"Yeah." Stiles snaps a little too roughly. "And I'm here, right? Go on ahead. You just go on downstairs and I will marry the crap out of you." He folds his arms peevishly. 

"Will you?" Derek's voice has changed, it's quiet, intent on something Stiles can't grasp. 

"What?" Stiles snaps, looking at his best friend. 

Derek sighs. "I'm so glad I didn't wait until the ceremony for this."

"What?" Stiles asks again, his voice softer now, more cautious. 

Stiles is still on his knees, leaning back on his heels. Derek gets down from his squat until he's on his knees as well, facing Stiles. He takes Stiles' hands in his, looking into his eyes. 

"What are you doing?" Stiles asks, his voice spooked. 

"Stiles, you told me you'd marry me. You told me twice now that you'd marry me." Derek starts, staring down intensely at his friend. It's almost like a challenge, a face off. "You're my best friend. And you've always been my friend without expectations or conditions or even expecting anything from me in return." Derek doesn't look way, if anything his stare deepens. "And it's been the best part of my life. But I can't keep this up. I know you're right." Derek squeezes Stiles hands and Stiles heart stops cold. "Things have changed. I need them to change."

"I know," Stiles says, trying to take his hands back from Derek. Wanting just to get away. Seriously wishing he'd made it out that window. 

"Do you?" Derek asks, refusing to let him move. "Stiles, I'm asking you again, the right way this time." Derek's eyes are intense and alive and so deep and all of a sudden Stiles can't look away. Derek reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small, glinting object. No box, just a band of different colored golds intricately woven into colored leaves surrounding a flawless cushion cut diamond. "I need you to promise to marry me, Stiles." Derek says. "There was a time when you used to tell me we'd spend our lives together." Derek looks at him. "Did you mean it?" 

Stiles looks back at Derek and feels himself falling back into the blind darkness of everything that's between him and his best friend. "Yes." He says, and he can't help himself. It's the most honest word he's ever spoken. 

"Then marry me." Derek says, sliding the ring on the omega's. "Marry me, Stiles." 

"Okay." Stiles says and as he looks into Derek's eyes, he knows there was never any window there at all. Only glass. And Derek has always been one of those things Stiles just can't come back from.


	23. Time

Every time Derek saw Stiles these days the omega rankled his alpha instincts and generally scared the hell out of him. Derek isn't sure why he'd expected their wedding day to be any different, but it might have something to do with the fact that this isn't the first time the alpha has done this. And at the same time it is. Derek and Ryanne's wedding was only nine years ago, and Derek can't remember the whole experience as being anything remotely like how the last couple days have been around the Hale estate. Actually, one vivid detail about his first wedding stands out and mirrors exactly what Derek has been feeling. In the lead up to Derek's first wedding, the alpha now remembers the very specific, visceral feeling of absolute worry and anxiety, nearly to the point of obsession, over Stiles. Back during Ryanne's and his engagement, Stiles' absence was still new and raw and... well, confounding to Derek on multiple levels. Not only had Stiles' sudden withdrawal from Beacon Hills been baseless and random in Derek's mind intellectually, he wasn't sure how he felt about his best friend up and abandoning him with no notice right before Derek's wedding. However, Derek's intellectual and emotional chaos was relatively simple incomparison to the way his instincts had gone haywire. Derek found himself angrier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He found himself sinking back into this chronic, seething rage that left him silent and stone-eyed, aggressive, unable to eat or sleep or sit for long periods of time. He'd barely been able to tolerate the wedding preparations the first time around. Not that he could remember much of what went into that wedding. After Stiles had left Derek's life had been a blur of cold fury and a sort of biting, bleeding ache in the pit of his gut that came at night.

This time around everything was more rushed, and everything felt different. The whole buildup to the wedding had been as audacious, unpredictable, and somehow all as intense and daring as Stiles is, himself. Derek found himself caught in the whirlwind of it; his sisters, his daughter, and his mother all stirring up tornados of flowers and confetti wherever they went. The four of them had turned Derek's estate upside down and were spending his money like the world was going to end tomorrow, but Stiles is here, Stiles is home, and this is going to keep him here and keep him safe so Derek doesn't care.

Of course Derek knows Stiles isn't totally comfortable with formal social events. He knows the omega is reacting like a wild tiger being expected to suddenly wear shoes, but Stiles will get over it the way Stiles always does. Derek is happiest when he's with Stiles, and Stiles used to be happiest when he was with Derek. After Stiles manages to stop panicking about this law, Derek knows it will be that way again. It was Derek and Stiles then; it's Derek and Stiles now, and Derek won't understand it if they can't be like this forever. He knows this is how it was meant to be. Deep down, Stiles has to know it too.

Derek doesn't know exactly what made him get on his knees, anymore than he knows what in the Devil's name possesses him to crawl after Stiles every time, what's made him practically beg his best friend to let him save Stiles' own life. There is something about the stubborn little shit that makes Derek's pride and sanity go straight out the window every time, and usually Derek doesn't even notice how undignified everything has gotten until he's looking back on the memories later. And the whole process of getting Stiles to agree to this marriage plan has been, in a word: undignified. All Derek knows is it doesn't matter. Having Stiles here with him, with a ring- _Derek's_ ring on his finger, tangible proof of Derek's bond to him, that no government, no official, no single person or group of naysayers can separate them anymore is something Derek needed. He thinks maybe he's needed that for a long time.

The omega is nervous. Skittish and pale. He looks at Derek, down at the floor, across at the corners of the room. Stiles doesn't seem to have the need to drink the sight of the ring on his finger the way Derek does. The omega is just resting against Derek, obviously trying to breathe deep, measured breaths, his nose partway smashed against Derek's chest. He clasps Derek's hands with cold, clammy fingers, as if he expects some terrible force to burst in and drag him away to his death. Derek just silently holds his hands back, nosing into Stiles' hair, scenting him.

Finally the door opens, not some terrible frightening bang the way Stiles seems to be expecting, but with a nearly inaudible click. Stiles starts violently just the same and Derek runs his thumb soothingly over the omega's palm. They both look up. Laura is standing in the doorway with Lydia slightly behind her. Both women are wearing traditional formal draped gowns of the sheerest, most luxurious fabric. Laura in a pale, icy dove grey and Lydia in a mint green. At their slender shoulders hang ornamental pins of the Hale and Martin alpha insignias set in diamond, emerald, ruby, and pearl. The ends of the long satin sashes and the hems of their flowing garments are embroidered with the most delicate seed pearls and intricate gold and silver stitches. The women wear their hair loosely tossed up in curls, woven with the traditional fresh flowers for a wedding. They are a picture of power and tradition.

Laura's icy wide eyes meet Derek's from across the room. "Derek." She says in a soft but steady voice. "It's time to go."


	24. Down the Aisle

All omegas and alphas are brought up knowing rite of marriage is the most solemn and important act they will ever experience. Seeped in ancient mysticism and sacred family ritual, marriage remains the one formal reminder of a primitive ancestry where the ability to bond with the right mate meant life or death for not only the individual, but society on a whole. Still today, society is built from a foundation of clan, of family. The marriage rite is a hallowed recognition of an alpha’s personal power and their responsibility in taking on the role of both provider and protector. The ceremony is a blessing over the omega, a celebration of the bride’s beauty and vitality. It is seen among many as a communal validation of the omega’s worth as a precious asset. The right omega can be a priceless boon to his alpha, sharpening his focus, evening his temper, serving as teacher and a keeper of secrets. Derek thinks it really is no wonder Stiles never seemed to go in much for marriage. The omega is as fierce an individualist as Derek has ever known, independent and fearless to a level unheard of in omegas. There were alphas in the pair’s circle of schoolmates who knew not to turn their backs on the omega if they had something coming to them. 

As a wealthy and influential alpha Derek has been to far more than his fair share of expensive, over-the-top weddings, including his first. Still, something is different as he steps into the doorway of the great room in his own home. Usually empty save for Cambria practicing her dancing, the large mirrored hall is usually only used when Derek and Ryanne host opulent dinners for charity or for Derek’s business partners and employees. Tonight it has been completely and utterly transformed. Laura had small, lush trees flown in, creating a delicate canopy of green above the guests. All around the branches she had hung twinkling crystal lights shaped like stars, along with traditional wedding garlands, large and lush, overflowing with beautiful roses and candied fruit, symbols of the alpha’s ability to provide for his new bride. Small twinkling chandeliers lit with tall, ivory candles mark every row of seating. Great trailing bouquets with ivory french silk ribbons erupt from everywhere and Derek wonders if Laura has left and single rose in the country unpicked. The room is dim, the only light coming from the candles and it’s as though they are all adrift in a dream where flowers and stars share the same home. 

The last thing Derek had wanted to do was leave Stiles back there in the room with Lydia, even knowing the omega will join him at the ceremony in less than five minutes. The guests are all seated on antique benches of dark mahogany, but Derek is so eager to get this whole thing started he has to stop himself from jogging down the aisle. Laura’s firm hand on his elbow kept him from dragging her in his anxiety. They reach the front, under a sweeping trellis of loose roses and greenery, and Derek turns to see his wife and his daughter in the front row next to his mother. Talia’s silver hair is swept up elegantly and she wears a diamond reproduction of the Hale alpha symbol pinned to the official draping that identifies her as a senator. She is regal in a long, flowing traditional gown the same silver lilac color of Laura’s dress. Swung over one of her shoulders elegantly is a platinum colored silk stole. She smiles at him serenely from the bench. Cambria is wearing a silk dress in the same platinum fabric. Her long dark hair is in curls down her back, tied away from her pretty little face with a crown of pearls and fresh tea roses. Ryanne sits next to her, his golden hair arranged perfectly around his handsome face. He wears a traditional omega tunic of sky blue silk, the same color of his eyes, with a deep, plunging neckline that reveals his bronzed skin. Around both his wrists and ankles are bands of yellow and white diamonds that glint in the candle light. Derek smiles quickly at his wife, and gives a little wave to Cambria. Ryanne watches him back intently before leaning over to kiss Cambria on the head. 

Derek then turns and looks anxiously down the aisle. Chief Justice Allen is dressed in his traditional long sleeved robe. He smiles down in greeting at Derek, but Derek doesn’t notice. He’s straining his eyes, looking for any sign of Stiles. Laura turns to him in a show of kissing him on the cheek. Traditionally, she’ll leave now and return momentarily with the bride. 

“Breathe.” She whispers in Derek’s ear. “I’ll bring him to you.” 

Derek meets her eyes and he can tell in a single moment of recognition that his oldest sister can see everything he’s feeling. Laura turns then, letting go of his arm and travels back down the aisle at what Derek thinks is an maddeningly slow pace. Derek watches her go, feeling somehow helpless. He’s dying to see Stiles again. He’s dying to know this will all be done and official. He tugs on his traditional black alpha’s tunic nervously, wondering how fast he’ll be able to run in his black lambskin strides. Wondering nonsensically why he’s gearing up to run anyways. Then the two alphas sitting to his right begin playing their cellos, the low, poignant flowing out and at their prompting the assembly stands and turns to face the back, waiting for the bride. Derek doesn’t even dare blink. All he wants, all his whole being is focused on, is the anticipation of seeing Stiles.


	25. Forever

Derek has left and Stiles is sitting with a choice he’s already made and remade three times. Surely by now the idea of this marriage is as disfigured and marred as Stiles’ own sense of his feelings for Derek. Once again is comes down to a single question. Can he do it? Can he get up and put one foot in front of the other knowing each step takes him further and further away from Derek? Further and further away from the promise Stiles had made to his best friend? He’d never once broken a promise to Derek, and he knew Derek was utterly incapable of breaking a promise to him; but that was the point, wasn’t it? Stiles isn’t ruled by an alpha’s sense of duty. Stiles is no pillar of the community and neither prestige nor responsibility rests on his shoulder. There is no one for Stiles to disappoint. There is no one for Stiles to impress. If anyone can pull the trigger on this and walk it’s him. Stiles would gladly bare the blame for this. He loves Derek so much taking a bullet for the alpha wouldn’t seem like a sacrifice. If he’s willing to die for Derek without so much as a second thought, surely Stiles is willing to live without him. He must love Derek enough to walk away. It’s the right thing to do, Stiles’ omega brain screams at him. 

But... another voice speaks through Stiles’ fog of panic and turmoil. A quiet voice. A sound Stiles’ mind hasn’t heard before. A new thought. A new question. Can you do it? Can you love him enough to walk out those doors and stand in front of him and everybody and keep your promise? Your last promise. He asked you to trust him. Do you love him enough to do it or are you so fucked up, so maladjusted you’re incapable of loving anyone like that? Is that just another one of your many flaws? 

This isn’t forever, Derek had said, and it wasn’t- not this time. And not this marriage. One day, Stiles knows, Derek will make good on his promise to Stiles. One day Derek will get the laws repealed and they will no longer have a reason for this marriage. One day Stiles really will have to do it. He really will have to go. And that day, unlike this one, will be forever. 

Stiles stands up to face the three women in front of him. He offers out his wrists like one about to be cuffed. One foot in front of the other. Keep your promise to him now. And you’ll have at least that much when forever comes later.


	26. Here Comes the Bride

The cello players stop playing and there is the echoing silence of two hundred silent people all standing at attention, all waiting in anticipation. Derek stands at the front of the crowd, straining his eyes, possibly forgetting to breathe. A moment goes by. Then a minute. Soft whispers begin to fill the room as people begin to stir, looking for the bride. Derek shift on his feet, wondering if Stiles really did get sick, wondering where the hell Laura is. He's about to take off down the aisle to find Stiles, likely puking in a bathroom, and marry him there, when a hush falls over the assembly again and the cellos start up. Stiles emerges into view and Derek is struck with the oddest feeling as his best friend walks towards him.

Stiles is wearing a traditional white omega bridal tunic cut exquisitely, in a luxurious, slightly sheer fabric with the softest sheen that seems to cling and move with each step the omega takes. Around the edges of the garment are is the most intricate, silver and gold embroidery of leaves and trailing ivy, embellished with miniscule freshwater pearls. Stiles is barefoot per tradition, and draped over his head and face is a simple veil, devoid of pickups or rouching, of the most translucent, gossamer fabric. It floats behind him, trailing weightlessly like some ghostly, fantastical smoke. Laura escorts him, tall and queenly, on his right, her gown like a cascade of silvery water. Cora has Stiles' left arm, her gown a soft plumb color, her red curls tossed up in a fountain of roses and pearls. She has the biggest grin on her face. Lydia takes up the rear behind the three others, carrying a white lit candle.

As Stiles draws closer, Derek grins at him. There is something amazing and surreal about seeing his best friend come down the aisle towards him. Stiles's familiar face- Derek thinks it could be there every day until the end of time and he would still never be any less excited to see it. Stiles doesn't smile back. Instead his eyes bug out a little in recognition of Derek as if to say, yeah, okay I'm here. You happy?

As the trio reaches Derek, Cora reaches out to hug her brother. She turns to Stiles with a smile. "He's your problem now." She says softly, a glint in her eyes.

"He always has been." Stiles nods back.

Laura looks solemnly at the two of them, resting one of her hands on each of their shoulders. "Be good to each other." She says.

Derek stands in front of Stiles now. He lifts the gossamer veil from Stiles' head and hands it to Laura. Laura takes it before following Cora and Lydia to sit down. Stiles' face is still pale and his eyes are like the stone eyes of a statue. He looks beautiful and stoic, like a youth about enter some great, bloody mythical battle. Laura has placed a thin, simple circlet of shining gold around his head.

Derek squeezes Stiles' hand comfortingly. "You made it." He whispers in the omega's ear.

"Yeah, well where was I going to go? Detroit?" Stiles mutters back irritably, quoting a television show they used to watch while growing up.

Derek chuckles softly. "I would have married you there."

Stiles smirks back, "Well, I wouldn't have married you there. Now shut up, do you want to do this or not?"

Derek hides his silent laughter at his peevish bride, and turns to face Chief Justice Allan.

"Brothers and sisters through blood and through bond, we are gathered here today for the most solemn and sacred of rites, to witness the formal bonding of this omega supplicant to this alpha protector." Justice Allan smiles down at the couple. "Who claims this omega before the community on this day?"

Derek speaks up, his voice strong and steady. "I do." He says firmly. Out the corner of his eye he sees Stiles twitch. He drags his thumb over the inside of the omega's wrist. A small movement only the two of them know about.

"Are there any who would challenge this alpha's claim to this omega before the community?" The justice asks, following the ancient script. He pauses for the compulsory moment before continuing, "Very well. What this alpha has taken as his own, under his protection and care let nothing, friend, foe, or force separate from him."

Derek looks over to the smaller bench in front of the congregation where he and Stiles are supposed to sit while the readings and blessings are recited. Stiles' hand feels dead and limp in Derek's hand, and the alpha squeezes it, guiding them over to sit in the bench. Stiles face is impassive, almost absent to the casual observer, but Derek recognizes the look of one of Stiles' silent tantrums when he sees it. Stiles eyes are fierce and intense, and his perfectly formed lips are curled in the slightest suggestion of a pout. Derek smiles, finding the omega's fiery temper strangely endearing. He pulls Stiles closer to him covertly.

He leans over, whispering, "Hey. Look at me. You okay?"

Stiles indulges him with a positively witheringly look. "Everyone is looking at me." The omega hisses back.

"So?" Derek whispers back.

Stiles shoots him another venomous looks. Derek smiles back at him. "Don't pay attention to other people. This isn't about them."

"Of course this is about other people." Stiles whispers back, his voice fast and snarling. "We wouldn't be here, doing this if it wasn't for other people!"

"No," Derek whispers, his voice measured and calm by comparison. "We'd still be here, together."

Stiles pulls a face, letting Derek know exactly what he thinks of that idea. "We would not be here, here, you dofus." He snaps.

"We'd still be together." Derek says, unconcerned. "And that's all that matters."

They hear the sound of a throat clearing and they both look down to see Talia sitting in the front row glaring at them. Next to her, Cora, Laura, and Lydia look completely unimpressed. Stiles smiles at the family and waves with false excitement.

He turns to Derek and growls, "I want you to know if we get out of this alive, I am going to burn you in your bed."

Derek laughs. "Be a good boy until the ceremony is over and I'll let you try."

"Not funny, Derek." Stiles snaps. "Grow up. I mean, I'm going to kill you like five seconds after this is done, but grow up in the meantime."

Derek just shakes his head, trying to keep in his laughter.


	27. Testify

“Please rise.” Chief Justice Allan says, and Stiles and Derek both look at him like two school boys caught chewing gum in church. Derek gets to his feet first, still holding Stiles’ hand. The omega reluctantly follows him. They stand in the middle of the trellis facing each other. Derek takes both Stiles hands in his. “Stiles and Derek,” The justice continues. “You stand here today in front of the eyes of your family, your dependents, your mentors, your allies, and your community to invoke the most holy of bonds. A bond which can conquer famine, turbulence, the rages of war, and the threat of death. A bond to sustain you, and through you, us as well. You both take into your hands a separate and sacred duty to each other and your community at large. Please stand before the ones you protect and the one who have protected you and testify in preparation for this solemn oath.” He turns to Derek and nods.

In this traditional part of the ceremony, the alpha and omega supply personal testimonials as a symbol to their community of their understanding of the seriousness of the marriage rite and their devotion to what it means. 

Derek stands tall and strong, looking unafraid and sure. He looks down at Stiles, seeing the pale omega’s neck pulsating with nerves. Stiles his marble statue face back on, his mouth a grim line, daring anyone to break through his hardened exterior. He is every bit the fighter Derek met back in youth, every bit as challenging, and fearless, and alive. So fragile and at the same time so strong, like a single flame in the darkness that can burn so severely and yet be extinguished so easily. Derek looks at Stiles and knows this one, mortal person, with all the million things he is and all the million things he is not, is the only thing that has ever stood between Derek and a life he didn’t want. 

“In a minute, I’m supposed to tell you that ‘your enemies are now mine and your hunger is my starvation; your burdens are on my body, and your pain is now in my blood,’ - the marriage vows we’ve heard since we were kids.” Derek says to Stiles, looking down at him, speaking to him in a normal, earnest gate, as if the omega’s the only one in the room. “But for us- and I hope you know this, that has never not been true. I know I haven’t always been there and you haven’t always been here. And I know there have been times when you haven’t needed me or anyone else. But,” Derek squeezes Stiles hands again and he finds the omega is holding his hands back so tightly it hurts. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t talked to you, if only in my mind, where I haven’t felt your burdens every day and your pain hasn’t hurt me, and your happiness hasn’t made me happy as well, even if I didn’t know about it.” Derek swallows, nodding down at Stiles. “And I- we have never needed a ceremony or a judge or witnesses or anything else for that to be true. It was you and me before. It’s you and me now. So I’m standing here today because I want it to always be you and me. I don’t want that to change.” 

Chief Justice Allan nods, and turns to the omega. “Stiles?” He prompts.

Stiles closes his eyes and swallows. Takes a shuddering breath and opens his eyes again, looking at Derek. He opens his mouth, almost hesitantly. “Derek, you know I’ve always been the type of guy who’s always thought he knows it all. That I have all the answers. And that’s probably why we got detention so many times as kids.” Derek smiles and runs his thumb over Stiles’ white, clenching hand. “Life is all about choices. About the things we do and the things we don’t. And I’ve always made my choices definitively. And it’s hard for me to admit that hasn’t always been easy for me, to admit that when things are hard, it’s usually easier and wiser just make the choice to leave. And I have left. I left you. But I’ve always come back. I’ve made the choice again and again come back to you. I’ve come back to us. You and I- this. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But you’re also the only thing I’ve ever stuck with in my life.” Stiles looks down at their hands, grasping each other for dear life. He looks at the ring on his finger. “You asked me to trust you.” He says softly, almost so only Derek can hear. He looks back up at his friend. “So this is me making the choice to trust you. This is me saying I don’t know what’s going to happen. That I’m out of my depth and over my head.” Stiles’ voice gets stronger. “But I’m going to trust you. Because whatever happens tomorrow or the day after that; I know that I’m going love you. Forever.”


	28. Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hypernousnight thank you for your lovely comment. This one is for you

  
_“I’m sorry.”_

_Derek and Ryanne were walking off the tennis courts. It was the sixth time Derek and Ryanne had hung out together alone. The alpha was as handsome and sleek as ever. His smile was like every fairy tale Ryanne had ever been told as a kid and every minute they spent together was like the fulfillment of the promise Ryanne had kept close to his heart since he was a child. There was no mistake; Derek Hale was the prince Ryanne had been expecting to come riding in his entire life. Wasn’t Ryanne the perfect omega? Didn’t he make everyone laugh at parties? Wasn’t he well dressed and impeccably groomed? Weren’t his parents the ideal future in-laws? Ryanne knew Derek Hale deserved him and he deserved Derek Hale. And wasn’t everything perfect? Wasn’t it?_

_“I’m distracted.” Derek had said, that day in May. Their sixth date. Maybe Derek hadn’t ever actually called them that, but Ryanne knew that’s what they were. How could they be anything else?_

_“What’s wrong?” Ryanne had asked the alpha. He was always careful to ask Derek a lot of questions about himself. Everyone knew alphas loved talking about themselves._

_Derek had sighed and reached for his water bottle, slumping down on a bench overlooking the Ryann’s parents’ estate. “It’s Stiles.” He finally says. “I can’t find him again. And he won’t answer his phone.”_

_Stiles again. Ryanne should have known. The omega has only met the little spaz once, but he’s already sick to death of the obnoxious kid._

_“So?” Ryanne asked, raising his eyebrows. “You said he’s in a lot of honors classes. He probably is just studying.”_

_“Maybe.” Derek looked doubtful. The alpha looked uncomfortable, distraught. Ryanne sat down next to him, close enough to inhale the alpha’s heavenly masculine scent. “I don’t know. If that’s true he’s been studying an awful lot lately.” Derek frowned. “He has an insane memory, you know. It’s not like he even needs to read something more than once. He’s really smart. That’s why he’s so lazy with his school work usually.” Derek grinned, as if he could see the other omega’s buggy little face in his mind’s eye. The smile soon slid off Derek’s face, to be replaced with a crumpled brow. He paused, considering. At last he said, “Ryanne, can I ask you something?”_

_Ryanne had turned his whole body towards the alpha, eager to help, eager to be a confidante like a good omega. “Of course, Derek. You can tell me anything.”_

_“It’s like...” Derek, usually so full of confidence and aplomb had looked confused, as if he couldn’t quite find the words. “I don’t know what to do about Stiles. He’s always been like, the number one person in my life. The one person who really gets me.” Derek paused, his brow furrowed. “We grew up together. We’ve always been together. Always. But lately, it’s like... I don’t know how to be close to him anymore.” Derek let out a frustrated breath. “And I don’t even know if he can tell and now it’s awkward so he’s actually trying to avoid me or something, or if I’m just paranoid and that’s what’s making it awkward and he’s just being normal or what...” Derek trails off, his eyes distant, clearly not even seeing Ryanne sitting right next to him. “I don’t know.” Derek looked down at his shoes. Defeated. “I just... I don’t feel like I’m close to him right now. And I need to be.”_

_Ryanne had looked at Derek and felt the first icy twinges of jealousy and fear course through his insides. How on earth could this be happening? What exactly did Derek mean?_

_He’d swallowed. “Well, how close?” He’d asked, his voice hollow. “What exactly are you talking about?”_

_Derek had paused then, looking out over the great rolling lawns, pensive. “Well, I don’t know.” He said softly. “He’s my best friend.” Derek nodded to himself. “And that’s good. We’re just... we’re good friends.” The alpha had paused again. “But I don’t know. I don’t like this pushing me away stuff, if that's what he’s doing.” The alpha was quiet. “It’s not us. Or it shouldn’t be anyways.”_

_“Derek,” Ryanne had said hesitantly. “Isn’t Stiles a lot younger than you? I mean, isn’t he only fifteen?”_

_“Yeah,” Derek nodded. “Yeah, he’s fifteen.”_

_“And you guys have always been buddies, right?” Ryanne had prompted, his thoughts racing behind his serene expression. “Almost like brothers?”_

_“Yeah,” Derek had nodded. “Sorta.”_

_“So it makes sense that maybe Stiles is asserting himself now that he’s getting to be older.” Ryanne had reasoned. “Maybe he isn’t really comfortable with his big brother figure being close to him... like that.”_

_“Yeah.” Derek had nodded again, his handsome face troubled. “Well, I mean, no. I don’t think of Stiles like he’s my brother.” Derek looks down at his hands. “I mean, for me... Stiles is Stiles.” The alpha had been quiet another moment. “I don’t know... whatever.” Derek had kicked at the lawn, still looking out over the setting sun. “I just... I love him.” Derek has kicked his heel, uprooting the lush turf, skidding his tennis shoes. “Not like a brother. Not like anything...” Derek trailed off again. “I just love him.”_

_Ryanne had stared at Derek, feeling like everything he deserved, the fairytale ending he was entitled to was slipping through his fingers, and for what? A lowbrow skinny runt who didn’t even know enough to fully appreciate an alpha like Derek Hale’s attention?_

_“Derek, does he know that?” Ryanne had asked in a hushed voice, touching Derek’s leg._

_“No.” Derek had said. “Well, I don’t know. I think Stiles knows everything about me. He probably knows this.”_

_“Yeah,” Ryanne had nodded. “He probably does.” Ryanne had paused, feeling the heat of Derek’s thigh under his hand. “Derek, don’t you think there’s something a little weird about having feelings like that for someone who you’ve known since he was five, someone who probably looks up to you as a big brother figure?”_

_Derek had turned and looked sideways at him. “You think so?”_

_Ryanne had shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, Stiles isn’t like us. He wasn’t brought up with a stable home life or parents to teach him how alphas and omegas should be, you know? He doesn’t care about the intricacies of mating or anything like that.” Ryanne had kept his voice gentle and understanding. “He’s probably confused and a little creeped out by how you’ve been towards him. I mean, he’s still just a kid in a lot of ways you and I aren’t.”_

_“You think so?” Derek said, looking back at Ryanne as if he were really seeing the omega for the first time._

_“Definitely.” Ryanne had nodded. “Stiles doesn’t come from a family like ours. He’s naive. He doesn’t care about family and marriage stuff in the same way you and I do.” Ryanne had looked at Derek sympathetically, “I know you’re such an amazing friend to Stiles, and I know how much you care about him, but Stiles might not see your attention the same way. He’s a young omega, and he’s, well... he’s not as well off as most of us. He might even think you’re trying to take advantage of him.” Ryanne said._

_“No,” Derek had shook his head. “Stiles would have talked to me if he thought that.”_

_Ryanne had laid his hand on Derek’s, looking up into the alpha’s eyes. “Derek, you’re respected in the community. You’re a leader. Stiles admires you. He’s probably too uncomfortable to tell you to back off. Maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding you.”_

_“Yeah,” Derek nodded. “I guess I really haven’t been fair to him.” He’d turned and smiled at Ryanne. “I’m really glad I told you this. I knew I needed an omega’s point of view.” Derek looked back over the quickly darkening sky. “I just... I wish I knew how to be what he needs.”_

_“He probably doesn’t need anything from you.” Ryanne had said. “He’s seems just fine on his own. He probably just wants space. Let him be a kid.”_

_“Yeah.” Derek had nodded. “Yeah.” Derek had looked down again. “He’s a kid.”_

 


	29. Blood and Promise

"Stiles, take my blood as a symbol of my devotion to you. Know that in our union I lay down my life before yours; your enemies are now mine and your hunger is my starvation; your burdens are on my body, and your pain is now in my blood." Derek looks into Stiles' eyes, speaking strongly enough for the entire congregation to hear, but in a soft, intimate tone that makes it clear his words are meant for Stiles' ears alone. "Live in my house, be the most treasured part of my life, be my teacher and my friend, and I will live only for you." Stiles watches as Derek picks up the ceremonial dagger with one hand and cuts a clean, thin line down his palm, perpendicular to the scar of the one the alpha made nine years ago at his first wedding to Ryanne. 

Stiles heart is beating somewhere up in his throat. Derek is no longer touching him right now and the omega feels at a complete and total loss. There is something so surreal and awful and terrifying about this moment. Nothing in Stiles's life has ever prepared him to be standing here in front of everyone they hold dear, pledging his life and his love over to Derek in a completely false display of devotion. And yet, there is nothing fake about the words on Stiles' lips. Stiles has never been one for formality, and yet, he would happily swear his devotion to Derek, to his best friend every day were it required of him. So if there are no lies in his vows, why is Stiles so overwhelmed, why is his body filled with paralyzing, bleak terror? Stiles knows the answer to his own question and it hits him with a dark finality: it is because he is alone in this marriage, alone in these vows not being a lie. And he's the one who will have to live with the consequences of what happens after today. 

Everything is happening too fast. He wants it to stop. He wants to tell Derek- no, he wants to beg Derek to stop this lie. To let him go. Or love him. Just let everything here be real. But he can't, and he knows it's not. And Stiles knows he has a promise to keep. 

He opens his mouth; the voice that comes out is bloodless and not his own. It seems to take an inordinate amount of effort to form the words. "Derek, take my blood," Stiles swallows, trying desperately to remember the words. "as a symbol of my devotion to you. I surrender to you my body, my needs, my pain, and my burdens. Take me, be my protector and my provider. Know that I live only for you." 

Somewhere over Stiles' head he hears Chief Justice Allan's voice prompting Derek, "You may now bite the bride." And Stiles is looking at Derek without really seeing him, dreading the alpha's touch, dreading the finality of the bite, the scar it'll leave, the pain to come. 

There is something unreadable in Derek's eyes as he looks down at Stiles. He reaches out and it's everything Stiles can do to keep from flinching away from his best friend. And then, one of Derek's strong, broad arms is anchoring Stiles' lower back to the alpha's broad warm torso, and the other is cradling the back of Stiles' sensitive neck in his large fingers. The alpha cups Stiles to him, not immediately going in for the bite, making no fast movements. Derek simply buries his nose in Stiles' hair, holding him close like they're the only two people in the room. Stiles can't help himself, he closes his eyes and hides his face in Derek's shirt. 

"Stiles," Derek's voice is low and soft in his ear, words only they can hears. "Are you okay?" 

At first Stiles can't speak, can't risk opening his mouth and letting Derek know how afraid he is, how out of control he feels. Finally he leans his head sideways, still not looking up at Derek, but baring his neck all the same. "Do it." Stiles says. "Do it now." 

Stiles really does flinch, but only with the smallest movement as he feels Derek's fingers gently, so very gently tracing the skin on his neck. Then there is pain, a hot biting pain swallowing Stiles' whole world, and he feels every nerve in his body screaming as he slumps forwards into the waiting darkness of Derek's embrace. Then there is nothing.


	30. Fallout

An event so public, so highly ritualized, so permanently fixed in the pop culture and public vernacular shouldn't contain any surprises. Stiles, himself, should no longer be able to surprise Derek. In fact, by all rights, marrying the omega Derek knows better than anyone else on the planet should be as straight forward an experience as there is one.Vowing to fight Stiles' battles and to be his friend? Done. That was a done deal years ago. The pomp and ceremony may be new to this friendship, but devotion is not. In all honesty, Derek thinks this should have just been another day in the life of Derek and Stiles. Only, when is any day just another day with Stiles?

Once again, Stiles is scaring the hell out of Derek. Once again, Derek is sure he's done something wrong. The thing about Stiles is he's so strong, so independent and capable, it's so easy for Derek to assume Stiles knows things the alpha doesn't, to assume Stiles has this. He always seems so cool, so self-reliant in comparison to Ryanne who always needs Derek's approval, always needs his validation. But, Ryanne had never frightened Derek to the point of nearly turning feral either. The last thing Derek thinks before all hell breaks loose in him is how beautiful Stiles is, how good and right it feels for them to be here, together, the omega's face buried in his chest, and how Derek will do anything to keep Stiles with him, keep him beautiful and safe and here. He should have known something was wrong, Stiles is shaking and pale in his arms, but Derek had been so sure of Stiles' own ability to take care if himself, so eager to have this over and done with, for them to be married, he hadn't stopped to question it, when Stiles had told him to do it, he'd simply put his lips to his friend's neck and obeyed.

Instantly, Derek knew something was very wrong. Stiles eyes flew open, wide and white as if Derek had shot him point blank in the gut, as if the alpha had betrayed him. The omega let out this horrible gasping noise as if his breath was being sucked bodily from him and then, most terrible of all, Stiles beautiful eyes had rolled back in his head and he'd crumpled against Derek like a corpse. Derek's body had instinctively constricted around the omega's the moment Stiles began to fall, before the alpha's mind had even registered something was out of the ordinary. He stared down at the limp body of his bride in horror, Stiles' blood still on his lips. Derek's body seemed to start acting before he could think. He picked up Stiles' body as if it was weightless, holding him tightly to his chest. He cupped the omega's jaw, tilting the lifeless face up towards him in a panic.

"Stiles?!" Derek gasps out. "Oh my God!"

Stiles doesn't respond. His whole body is limp and everything in Derek is screaming, get away, too many people here. Get him safe, take him back to your den where he can be safe.

"Derek!" The alpha looks up and away from the unconscious omega in his arms. He stares in the direction of the voice, barely recognizing his mother. "What's wrong?" Talia is asking, looking down at the unconscious bride.

Derek subconsciously takes a step back from the quickly gathering crowd. He doesn't want them near Stiles, right now. Stiles is vulnerable. Stiles isn't safe. He needs Derek. Derek needs to keep him safe. They need to be alone. "Don't touch him!" Derek hears himself growl, his eyes flashing at the crowd. "Don't you come near him!" He presses the omega's body to him tightly, immediately searching for exits, categorizing ways out.

"Derek!" The alpha hears another voice now, this one almost a wail, he looks down to see an offending hand on his arm. He growls deep and low at it. He barely registers the face of Ryanne staring up at him, pleadingly. "Come on Derek, it's me. Your wife." Derek flashes his teeth at the voice menacingly. It's too close to him and the omega. It's a threat to the omega. "Get back!" He growls. "Stay away from him!"

"Do what he says," Another voice sounds out in the crowd and two figures are moving towards him with concerned looks on their faces. "He's going feral. Keep away from him, Ryanne. He registering you as a threat to Stiles." The voice is calm, even. Derek vaguely recognizes the person it's coming from as Kent, his sister Laura's, omega.

"I'm his wife!" Ryanne cries, "Derek!"

"Come on, Ryanne." Cora's voice now. The little redhead has the omega by the arm. "Come on."

"Derek, it's me- Laura's wife, Kent." The omega is standing in front of him now, his voice even, soft. "I'm not going to hurt Stiles. I'm a doctor, remember?"

"Derek, let him help Stiles!" A dominant voice now, a familiar one. Laura's commanding, yet soothing voice brings back memories of childhood and safety. "He's not going to hurt him. Stiles needs help."

Derek blinks up at his sister and his omega. "Not here." He says hoarsely. "My room."

"Okay," Kent says, nodding.


	31. Princess Problems

Cambria sits watching her mommy and daddy and aunts flying all around the ballroom. She kicks her legs impatiently. She's had about enough of wearing stockings for today. To her right her young aunt, Cora comes over and scoops her up in her arms, walking out towards the back doors of the room. Cora is the smallest alpha Cambria has ever seen other than Lydia, but she's a lot stronger than she looks. Cambria hugs Cora around the redhead's neck, looking over her shoulder as her daddy carries Uncle Stiles out the front door, with Kent and Laura following. Lydia and Grandma have Mommy cornered in one  area of the room while Grandma's friend, the judge calmly addresses the rest of the guests. Aunt Cora is marching both of them out the front to the foyer and then into the kitchen. She sets Cambria down at the kitchen table while the caterers look up at them in surprise.

  
Cambria makes a face at her Aunt Cora. "Well, that was weird." The nine year-old announces.

  
Cora makes a face back. "I know." The older alpha agrees. "You want some ice cream?"

  
"Okay." Cambria agrees as Cora pulls over a porcelain dish and begins heaping giant scoops of strawberry ice cream in it.

  
"Don't tell Grandma," Cora warns her as she squirts on chocolate sauce with all the discretion of an abstract artist. She hands Cambria a sterling silver spoon and the enormous dish.

  
"Thanks," Cambria nods.

  
"Well, someone's gotta look after the baby." Cora mutters.

  
"Aunt Cora," Cambria says around a mouthful of ice cream. "Is Uncle Stiles okay?"

  
Cora pauses for a moment, "Don't worry about Uncle Stiles." She says. "Sometimes when omegas get overwhelmed they need to take a little break. Uncle Stiles is going to be just fine after he gets some rest."

  
"The wedding overwhelmed Uncle Stiles?" Cambria asks, doing her best to keep from dibbling chocolate over her pretty dress.

  
Cora's mouth twists a little. "I think Uncle Stiles has a lot to think about right now." She says.

  
"Is Uncles Stiles worried that the bad men are going to take him away?" Cambria frowns. "You said Daddy wasn't going to let  anyone take him away."

  
"Hey," Cora looks down at Cambria, eye to eye with the little girl. "Your daddy is not going to let anything happen to Uncle Stiles or anyone else in this family. Okay? Uncle Stiles isn't going anywhere."

  
Cambria nods, looking thoughtful. At last she says, "Did that happen to my mom when Mom and Dad got married?"

  
"Did what happen, honey?" Cora says, looking down at her niece.

  
"Did Mom collapse when Dad bit him?" Cambria clarifies, her bright little eyes curious. "Then did Dad start freaking out and yelling at Grandma?"

  
"Did your dad start yelling at Grandma on his first wedding day?" Cora echoes, "No, honey. It was a real nice day for everyone." She looks down at the thoughtful little girl. "You want some more ice cream?"

  
Cambria doesn't seem to be interested in anymore sugar. She stares down at her bowl intently. At last she looks up. "Did my dad hurt Uncle Stiles?" She asks.

  
Cora sighs, blowing her wilting curly bangs out of her eyes. "Don't worry about Uncle Stiles, honey." She says. "Your dad is taking real good care of him, you hear? You can see them tomorrow morning. We can have pancakes."

  
"With chocolate sauce?" Cambria asks with a grin.

  
"With whatever you want." Cora promises.


	32. Ruined

Before Stiles has even opened his eyes he's aware something is different. Something has changed. He doesn't know if it's him, if the reaction is under his skin, in his blood, running through the liquid parts of his body, or if it's Derek, if the change is in his life long friend, in the alpha. Or if it's there in the air, in the breath and space between them. All Stiles knows is he is not himself. Or he is too much himself. There is something in him, some tight heat radiating off Stiles, humming through his body, stretching out through his cloying limbs, a palpable urge secreting from his very pores.

He can smell himself. He hasn't even opened his eyes and he can smell a damp thickness on him. Something needy and angry. A raw, aching energy outside of himself, and yet originating from the deepest, darkest, most private core of who he is. Stiles opens his eyes and looks up at the alpha over him. The omega's eyes are dilated, his lips open and swollen to an obscene red color in the flickering, dim firelight. He feels lost. He is not in control.

The alpha, Derek, the idiot Stiles just married, is in his space and he has no right to be. The omega studies him, taking in the way his large, solid body hovers over him, the heat radiating off his chest, the way one of his large hands is resting on the omega's neck, one broad thumb caressing Stiles' pulsating jugular. The alpha isn't looking at him, he's glaring up at Kent, Laura's wife. Kent is a respectful distance away, his voice even, rhythmic. Derek's mouth is open, his pupils are blown wide and dark. Derek's scent is all over Stiles, all over the bed, all over the room- the familiar autumn wind and wood smoke scent, but there's something else there too, some new kind of darker musk that Stiles' omega brain reads as both tantalizing and dangerous at the same time. Something threatening.

"Calm down, Derek." Kent is saying. "He's okay."

On Stiles' neck, Derek's fingers tighten, if only a fraction, adding the barest amount of pressure to the omega's fevered skin. Stiles' sensitive omega neck seems to come alive under the sensation. He holds himself back, silently willing himself not to arch and stretch under Derek's hand.

"Oh yeah," Derek's voice is low, rough and angry. "He just normally passes out like that all the time. This is fucking par for the fucking course."

"Derek," Kent sighs from above them. "He's fine. You know he's underweight right now and probably dehydrated. Stiles doesn't do well with crowds under the best of times. He just needs to rest."

"Get out!" Derek growls, his whole voice filling the room like the bellow of a monster, reverberating against Stiles' sensitive ears. "Get the hell out of my sight!"

There is the sound of the door closing then, and Stiles stirs from under Derek's enormous hand. He's still not entirely positive what's going on at the moment, but he sure as hell doesn't approve of the dictator tone Derek has going on right now, or the way the alpha is leering over him like the first greedy crow to happen upon a pile of road kill. He sits up gingerly, testily batting Derek's hand away.

"What the hell is your problem?" Stiles demands, staring at the alpha across the large foreign bed. He looks around the cavernous dark room. The bed is an alpha's bed, enormous and dark, covered with layers of soft, luxurious blankets. "Where am I?"

Derek stares at Stiles like his brain isn't keeping up with his eyes. "Stiles," He croaks, "Are you okay?" He reaches towards Stiles, but the omega scrambles back out of reach, staring with wide eyes at the seemingly endless bed around them.

"I'm fine." Stile hisses, feeling himself loose his balance a little on the soft material below him. "You're being an asshole to everyone again, aren't you?" Stiles blinks at Derek, feeling something a lot like rage welling up inside him. He stares around himself in horror and confusion. "Oh my God!" He spits. "Am I in your bed?"

The alpha doesn't look like he's in any mood for Stiles' dramatics. "You passed out." Derek says as if that explains everything, then his eyes flash, the alpha gets up close, gets up in Stiles' face. "What the hell were you thinking?" 

Stiles is in no way backing down. He leans into the alpha's face as well, his features equally as hard, his eyes just as angry. "Oh gee, did I do something else without asking your permission, Derek?" Stiles snarls. "Sorry I embarrassed you again in front of everyone with my disobedience, you controlling, fake-ass alpha asshole!"

"Fake?" Derek roars back, his face mere centimeters away from Stiles' contrary, shameless expression. "You're the one who keeps telling me to my face that nothing's wrong between us and then running the minute my back is turned like a spineless coward. You're the one who's so stubborn and damn pigheaded he can't even tell me, the guy who he claims to be his best friend, when he's feeling sick or when he needs help! You're the one who tells me he loves me but keeps pushing me away like you're punishing me for something, but you won't even tell me what it is or how to make it right! Do you have any idea what kind of hell that is, Stiles?" The alphas is right there, angry, furious and in in Stiles' space in a way he can't ignore.

"Shit." Stiles swears, turning sharply, trying to wade his way off Derek's bed, trying to get out of the alpha's line of sight. "I am not doing this." Stiles says, seething inside. "I am not doing this."

A steel arm snaps out and traps Stiles to a large warm chest, pulsating with a familiar heat, a familiar scent. A huge hand engulfs Stiles' wrist, locking it into his side. All of a sudden Stiles' breath catches in his throat and he can feel his pulse humming and singing under his skin.

"You don't get to run this time, Stiles." Derek's voice sharp and low in his ear, nearly a growl, close and hot, Stiles feels a shiver of anger and something else entirely run down his spine. All at once Stiles' bridal tunic is too confining, the silk fabric chafing against his suddenly sensitized nipples.

"What are you doing, Derek?" Stiles asks and his voice sounds breathless in his own ears, like the voice of a stranger.

"I want you to tell me how to make things right between us." Derek growls, his breath grazing Stiles' newly bloodied neck, his shoulder, the inside of his ear. "Just let me take care of you." Derek's nose is brushing Stile's cheek, his neck, scenting him. He whispers into the omega's ear, his voice softening now. "I need to."

Stiles really does struggle out of Derek's arms now, he pushes himself away and stares up at the alpha, his face both broken and hostile, his flush mouth open, almost panting.

"Stiles, please..." Derek says, his eyes pleading.

"I am no good for you." Stiles says, his voice raw. He looks down at his hands. They are shaking.

"You are everything." Derek says and the alpha's large hand is up as if he's going to strike Stiles. Then his fist is in Stiles' hair, and Derek is crushing their mouths together, and it feels like something violent and desperate, like the killing blow of a murderer.

Derek's mouth is open, and he's inhaling the taste of Stiles, cramming his mouth to the omega's like he's going to draw blood. Stiles' fists are ripping at Derek's shirt, his whole body wedged up against the alpha, as if they're locked in a boxing match. It is inelegant and half-crazed. It is an assault. Almost a crime. It is an act of worship. Derek's hands are in Stiles' hair and he's pulling the omega down on him, and Stiles' legs are wrapped around Derek's waist. Derek is biting and licking into Stiles' mouth like a staved animal, mad for the taste of him, dunk on the soft yielding feel of the omega's mouth. Plundering it greedily, unable to to leave it for a moment. Stiles' hands are running up and down Derek's flexing muscular back, feeling himself completely under the will and control of the larger alpha. He arches up under Derek, wanting to get closer, wanting to feel more of the alpha's weight on him, to be owned and comforted by that solid familiar girth.

There are no longer actual linear thoughts in Stiles' head, all he knows is need and ache. He feels Derek's large possessive hands roaming all over his body, feeling them wake up his skin, their rough desperate touches leaving him hungry and aching and alive.

"Derek," He murmurs, desperate and high, as the alpha mouths his way frantically down the hot column of Stiles' neck, the pressure enough to bruise, enough to leave marks. “Derek...” 

“Yes.” Derek’s voice is not his own, or not in any way Stiles has ever heard it. It is deep and raw. Wrecked. The word isn’t so much an answer as it is a command. The alpha is crushing Stiles to him as if he wants to devour him whole. Where their touching has left Stiles shaking and weak, breathless, the alpha has only seemed to grow stronger. His hands come up, soothing Stiles’ heated flesh, running over and around the omega’s chest before decisively ripping off Stiles’ silk bridal garment. “You...” Derek growls against Stiles’ skin, as he licks and sucks his possessive way down his chest. “You...” 

Stiles’ realizes somebody is sobbing, somebody is making half-crying noises and he thinks it may be him. Derek has him on his back now, his wrists caught firmly and easily in one of the alpha’s enormous hands, over Stiles head. Derek is sucking on one of Stiles’ bare nipples mercilessly and it’s only then, as the sweet, hot, aching pleasure begins to pool in Stiles’ gut, and he feels Derek grinding his hard, insistent, unmistakable cock against his stomach through the tight leather of the alpha’s strides that Stiles actually registers in a single moment of insane clarity that what they’re doing is a sex act. He should stop this. He knows what this is. Stiles has finally pushed Derek, taunted the alpha’s sense of pride and misplaced protective instincts to the point of insanity. He should stop them. What they are doing- what Stiles is allowing them to do is wrong at best, and an act of ultimate betrayal against his best friend at worst. 

He should stop them. But then Derek is sitting up and pulling him bodily up with him, sealing his arms around Stiles in the tightest, most comforting, most protective, safe embrace, and their bloated, angry cocks are hard against each other, and Stiles is starved for it. He’s aching and wanting and starved for it.

Derek pulls back and looks Stiles’ in the eyes, his own eyes seeming without irises, his mouth hanging open, hungry. “I need you.” The alpha says, his voice hoarse, more animal than man. And Christ if Stiles isn’t close already, if he doesn’t want to rub his hand down between them and finish it right now, if only to give himself to relief, some sanity. 

He should leave. He should stop them. This will finish him. Finnish what little they have between them. Derek doesn’t love him. He doesn’t really want this, want him. Stiles has driven him to this. 

“Please...” Derek whispers, looking into his eyes, and Stiles doesn’t recognize the expression there, doesn’t know what it is. 

Stiles looks down at the alpha’s hand. He picks it up in his own and presses it down, letting the alpha’s touch engulf his cock. And then Stiles closes his eyes. 

“Inside me.” Stiles grates out between clenched teeth. “Now. Hard.” 

For once the alpha obeys and Stiles finds himself on his back again, this time completely naked. Derek is above him, panting and eating Stiles’ body up with his hot, lidded eyes, tearing off his own clothes. All of a sudden Derek’s large hand is hot, splayed over the Stiles’ stomach, keeping him in place. Stiles is dripping wet, his own cock flushed and begging. He needs no preparation and Derek is too far gone to give him any. He thrusts all the way in, one smooth conquering motion. Stiles thinks he screams, a sharp, awkward pain and the stretch and pull of this invading force in him, and at the same time he scratching down Derek’s back, pulling the alpha in closer, trying to feel more of him, trying to quell the hot, needful ache inside. Derek lets out a high, gasping whine at the sensation and starts a brutal, punishing pace, as if he can’t bare to not be inside Stiles. 

This is not Stiles’ first time having sex, not even his first time with an alpha, but there is something so damaging, so perfect and amazing about the feeling of Derek inside him, it’s as if he were made to house the alpha. He hangs on to Derek, just feeling the perfect weight and girth of him even through the pain, knowing he’ll always feel empty after this, knowing Derek is making him only fit him, only good for him after this. 

He has ruined them. He’s done it. No one else. And it was worth it. In this savage, carnal, obscene way and in only this way Stiles can show Derek what he does to him. This is Stiles' last thought as he feels Derek tense inside him, clutching him to his body like a dying man. And then Stiles returns to the darkness.


	33. The Purloined Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAJPgpGdB_4

When he at last opens his eyes everything has changed. Everything is right but nothing has been resolved. Everything is perfect. Everything is destroyed. Derek’s life, every little thing that had fallen in place so meticulously, the house, the work, his day to day living, every small detail that had come together seemingly so perfectly, effortlessly- had any of it mattered at all? If it all, the school car pools, the dinner parties, the Wednesday light loads of laundry, could be shattered so singularly, so willfully, so joyfully, what exactly had Derek been doing for the last ten years? All of it, the landscaping in the backyard, the furniture color pallets they’d argued over, the luxury cars they’d researched so meticulously, the antique rug in the front hall they’d been willing to kill each other over at the dealer’s- that had become Derek’s world. And somehow, somewhere along the line, Derek had taught himself that was a world to be proud of.

That wasn’t reality. None of it. Because the reality is nothing has changed. You can wake up and do different things, but if you still think the same thoughts and feel the same things, you are still the same person. Derek loved Stiles before. He loves Stiles now. Nothing has changed. Derek’s world didn’t change tonight. Stiles is and always has been his whole world.

The omega is naked and asleep, nestled perfectly, peacefully in Derek’s arms, tucked under the alpha’s chin, tangled in his strong protective limbs, in Derek’s bed where he belongs. The soft rhythm of the omega’s breath is hitting Derek’s neck, and Stiles’ can’t so much shift without Derek feeling it. At last Derek is calm, the dark anger, the weary frustration, the shadow of longing emptiness is gone from him. His omega is here with him, bonded to him, with a still bleeding mating bite on his neck. And he is beautiful. His heart. Derek’s heart has finally come home to be with him. How can the world not seem perfect at this moment?

He folds his arms around Stiles again, kissing the omega’s brow lazily. He is starved for this, starved for the tactile feeling of Stiles’ naked body pressed against his. Starved for the omega’s heady scent combined with his own. He could lie here for the rest of his life and never be full. Derek tucks his head in next to Stiles and just breathes. Yes, the world is falling around them and everything he thought he knew has now changed, or would have to change, but Stiles is here and Stiles is his, so Derek knows he can face whatever the daylight will bring.

There is a soft noise and Derek lifts his head, careful not to jostle the sleeping omega. Boyd has poked his head in, and is motioning Derek with one hand. Derek starts, he knows Boyd is the only one who would interrupt him at this hour of the night. Derek reluctantly and carefully rearranges the omega’s precious sleeping form under the cover, kissing him gently on the lips before wrapping a blanket around his waist and turning to follow his right hand man out into the hall.

It’s dark in the hall, Boyd pulls out a lighter and flicks it open. The alpha’s face is lined with worry.

“What is it, Boyd?” Derek asks in a hushed voice. “It’s my wedding night.”

“I know,” Boyd whispers, apologetically. “But we got a problem, Derek.”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks, immediately concerned. “Is Cambria alright?”

“Cambria is fine.” Boyd assures him. “It’s the land out in Wentworth. The flooding is coming down really badly out there. One of the levies broke. Some of your men are stranded out there with the livestock. We got to go out and help the rescue crews. I know it’s your wedding night, but Derek, it’s looking real bad.” Anxiety is written all over Boyd’s face.

“Stiles,” Derek says quickly, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door. “I can’t leave him.”

“Derek,” Boyd says. “Your men need you. I’ve never known you to turn your back on them. I’m sure Stiles will understand.”

Derek sighs, feeling torn. “You’re right.” He says. “Give me a minute. I’ll meet you at the truck.”

Derek turns back and walks into his darkened bedroom, pulling on his clothes quickly. He grabs a pen and paper quickly and sprawls a note on it, leaving it on the night stand next to the omega’s sleeping form before kissing Stiles’ forehead tenderly. He silently turns and walks out the door.

_Stiles,_  
_I know I should probably apologize for last night, but you’re home, with me, and I can’t be sorry. I am more sorry than you’ll ever understand that I won’t be there when you wake. An emergency came up and the men need me, although I promise, not as much as I need you. I’ll be home with you as soon as I possibly can. Promise you’ll be there waiting for me when I return. Promise you’ll let me make things right._  
_Derek_

On the way out the front door, Derek pauses to pull on his boots. A hand comes out and catches him from behind. He turns, it’s Ryanne staring at him with a white face, wearing a bathrobe.

“Derek! Where have you been?” The omega asks. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t have time to explain.” Derek says hastily. “One of the levies broke and Boyd and I have to go out to help the men.”

“Now?” Ryanne asks.

“Yes, now.” Derek says, already halfway out the door. “We’ll talk when I get home.” With that the alpha shrugs him off and begins jogging towards the truck parked in the drive.

Ryanne watches him go from the window, feeling the cold creeping feeling that’s been threatening to take over since the wedding grow. Wordlessly, the omega walks down the dark hall to the closed door of his husband’s room. He soundlessly opens the door and looks down at the very sight he’s dreaded and suspected. Stiles is asleep in Derek’s bed, tucked under the covers, cradled against Derek’s pillow. One of the omega’s hands is outstretched and Ryanne stares down in cold disbelief as he gets a good look at the glinting, intricate wedding ring on the omega’s finger for the first time. Ryanne’s eyes float over the hastily scrawled note sitting on the nigh stand. Silently, feeling hollow, he picks it up and puts the note in the pocket of his robe before turning and closing the door behind him.


	34. The Second Wife

Stiles wakes up and his body feels like it’s no longer his own. The way a war-torn land that has just suffered hordes of foreign invaders, scorched earth, and trench warfare no longer feels like home to the surviving civilians immediately after a cease fire is called. Every muscle in his body aches and his skin is too raw, too sensitive, as if there isn’t a single inch of him that hasn’t been bruised or skinned. Stiles has had beatings out on the road that haven’t left him in the same physical condition. He squeezes his eyes tightly in shame as a flood of images, tactile memories come rushing back. Derek hadn’t been gentle with him last night. No, that sounded wrong. They hadn’t been gentle with each other. Stiles hadn’t given the alpha much of a choice. 

He immediately curses himself for returning to consciousness. All he wants to do is slip back down into the darkness, possibly never to return. Stiles has done some bad things some nights that have led to painful mornings, but he’s never questioned his own strength and ability to face them until now. He vaguely registers being alone in the bed. Isn’t sure if that’s a relief. It probably should be but all he feels is something a lot like panic. 

He opens his mouth and it hurts, before he opens his eyes. “Derek?” Stiles whispers, his voice raw and hoarse, possibly frightened. 

“Derek isn’t here.” The voice above his is familiar but assuredly not the alpha’s. 

Stiles’ eyes open and he immediately draws the covers up over him, staring up at Ryanne. The omega is impeccably dressed, his hair perfectly coiffed, looking golden and flawless in the morning light. He is leaning against Derek’s dressed, his handsome face cold, impassive. Stiles looks up at him feeling ugly, half-formed somehow. He looks around the giant room for some sign of the alpha. There is none. 

“Where’s Derek?” Stiles asks. 

“My husband is out working.” Ryanne says, his voice even, cool, as if he isn’t at all affected by the sight of another naked omega in his husband’s room. “He, Boyd, and Lydia left early this morning.” The omega glances down at his diamond watch and then back up at Stiles. 

“When will he be back?” Stiles hears himself ask, part of him almost disbelieving, still looking for Derek to come walking in to pick up where they left off fighting the night before. Stiles hasn’t been around much over the last decade, but Derek has never left Stiles alone with Ryanne before and Stiles finds himself deeply uncomfortable in this beautiful, cold omega’s presence. 

“I don’t know.” Ryanne drawls softly, and he strikes Stiles as a cat waiting patiently for it’s prey. “Probably not for some time. It’s his way. The levies went out last night in our land across the state. Cell and internet is down out there too. I don’t expect him back for some time.” 

“Oh.” Stiles says, unsure of how to feel about this news. He knows Derek has every right to be furious with him right now, but he hadn’t expected the alpha to just up and leave him here either. Derek had never just left Stiles anywhere without telling him how to get a hold of the alpha for as long as Stiles had ever known him. “Where is Laura?” He finds his voice again. 

“Laura, Kent, Cora, and their mother left on a red eye last night.” Ryanne says smoothly. “They went out to DC.” He looks down at Stiles in pure disdain. “We all agreed after yesterday’s... incidents it was in everyone’s best interests that this law get repealed as soon as possible.” 

Stiles looks up at the golden omega for a moment, not quite sure of what to make of this news. He can’t believe he’s been left on the Hale estate without any actual Hales. But of course they all of things to do besides sit around and cater to him. “Sure.” He finally says. 

Ryanne looks down at Stiles, poised and icy. “My family is certainly quite fond of you, Stiles, but I’m sure you’ll understand that this whole wedding business has been quite a bit for everyone.” He stares down at Stiles. “Of course it was necessary to keep you out of the hands of the authorities, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how many resources it’s taken for this family to save face in light of that. I mean, that wedding yesterday was quite an elaborate little show, wasn’t it?” Ryanne smiles coldly. “But it had to look convincing didn’t it? Nobody would believe a Hale wedding that didn’t cost a fortune. Even then, I wasn’t sure anyone would buy it, I mean, nobody knows who you are.” Ryanne laughs humorously. “But I think we finally did manage to find enough glitz and fireworks to pull the wool over everyone, didn’t we? I guess the old saying is true, ‘you can’t see with glitter in your eyes.’ And that wedding was several homes worth of glitter.” 

Stiles nods, unsure of what to say. “The Hales have always been very generous with me.” He says. 

“My husband has a lot of honor.” Ryanne says. “You’re such an old friend, Stiles. Of course this was a necessity.”

“Derek has always been there for me.” Stiles agrees. 

“Of course he has.” Ryanne nods. “He’s an alpha through and through. They just can’t help themselves.” He looks down at Stiles. “But you and I are omegas, Stiles. We know how things are.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stiles says, looking at Ryanne carefully. 

“You knew my husband was going to bale you out of this the moment you stepped through our door this Christmas.” Ryanne says. 

“What?” Stiles asks. 

“Don’t think I don’t know why you came home after all this time.” Ryanne says. “It can’t be to visit us or our daughter. You could have done that years ago. You knew my husband’s sense of honor was going kick in and he was going to make everything better.” 

“No,” Stiles says, his eyes wide. “That wasn’t it. I... I was worried. The Hales- Derek is my family.” Stiles looks stricken. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Of course not.” Ryanne says, sympathetically. “And who can blame you? They are just so convenient, aren’t they?” 

“No!” Stiles says, feeling his whole body constrict. “I didn’t ask for this!” 

“But you knew they would do it.” Ryanne presses coolly. “You knew what Derek’s sense of loyalty is. You knew my husband would turn his world inside out to help an old friend. And you came back.” 

Stiles looks down, feeling a horrible feeling flood his body. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I never...” 

“I know.” Ryanne says. “And Derek would never tell you how hard this has been for him, for us. For the family. But I think you understand how things are.” 

Stiles looks up at Ryanne. “I don’t want... I don’t want to be a burden to Derek. I never wanted that.” 

“Then don’t be.” Ryanne says. “Do your part for this family. Do what’s right by us, and don’t trouble Derek any more. Don’t you think he’s done enough?” 

“Of course.” Stiles says. “Of course.” 

“Good.” Ryanne smiles again. “Now get dressed. I put clothes for you on the dresser. There are things that need doing.”


	35. A Promise to Keep

The first step you take is always in your head. 

Stiles looks out over the fields from his window feeling as though Derek has taken his soul and stretched it thin over the miles and miles of land under the alpha’s command. Stiles hadn’t asked for the omega protection laws, he hadn’t willingly given Derek his hand in marriage, he hadn’t woken up meaning to have sex with Derek. He hadn’t even wanted to love the alpha. But he did. He had. And it had happened. What had started out a bid for survival had ended in the worst kind of internal destruction. And it was because of Stiles. Ryanne was right. Pretty, petty, shallow Ryanne had shockingly seen through to the exact bloody heart of the situation. Stiles had come home. He had come back. He had opened the door and the fallout was on his own head. Stiles had gambled what he couldn’t afford to lose and he had lost it all. 

Stiles stumbles through the dark passage disguised as a linen closet, all too keenly aware of what exactly had physically passed between himself and Derek last night. Derek had made his presence felt and known in on Stiles’s skin, in the burn of the omega’s muscles. Like a bitch. Like some pathetic 2nd omega wife in a historical film, Stiles think ruefully, his body had not been his own last night. It still didn’t feel like his this morning. Stiles collapses down and hurls into the sink, sick and gasping. He is unsure of who he’d like to kill more right now- Derek or himself. How could he have let himself fall this far, go down this hard. He had loved Derek. Like a fool, like a bitch, like every dirty word for an omega Stiles had ever heard shouted on a school yard or scrawled in a bathroom stall. This is what made you weak, this is what everyone warned you about as a kid. It wasn’t sex- it was everything that came with it. It was giving what you didn’t have and expecting what someone else didn’t have to give. 

Stiles throws himself into the shower, turns the water to scalding, trying to burn away the apha’s scent, trying to scourge the memories out of his skin. Perhaps Derek had left. Perhaps Derek had decided to forgive Stiles’ weakness last night and never speak of this again. Perhaps the alpha would return and they would both pretend this had never happened. Was that kind of optimism insane or what? But from where he stands, that’s the only possibility keeping him upright. 

Stiles limps out of the shower like something already dead and festering. He looks over as the harsh mechanical jangle of his cell phone goes off on the counter. He looks down instinctively to see Cora’s grinning picture staring up at him. Stiles picks up the phone automatically, staring at it. 

“Stiles? Stiles?” Cora’s voice comes through the tiny speaker, loud and brassy. “Are you there? Don’t tell me I woke you up?!” 

Stiles swallows, blinking as if he’s coming out of a trance somehow. “No.” He says woodenly. “No. I’m here.” 

“Thank God!” Cora laughs, her voice florescent and bright next to Stiles hollow feelings. “Are you okay, honey? How are you feeling?” 

“Uh. Yeah. I’m fine.” Stiles swallows quickly, trying to desperately to think if there was some possible way Cora would have found out about what he and Derek did last night. “Why?” 

“You passed out.” Cora says sounding confused. “Sweetie? At the wedding? You don’t sound okay...” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Stiles says. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” 

“Okay,” Cora says, her voice still light, but a little more subdued. “Well I wanted to tell you that we’re all really sorry we left in such a hurry. Mom got this call from the speaker of the house, and we just ran out of there, you know how long Washington minutes last.” She laughs lightly. “I figured you and Derek needed some time together anyways.” He can hear the smile in her voice, and can’t imagine how she can sound so happy right now. “Is he there? Hand him the phone for a moment!” 

“Um.” Stiles blinks. His mouth feels dry like sandpaper. “What?” 

“Derek!” Cora giggles. “Put my brother on the phone.” 

“He’s uh...” Stiles looks over his shoulder at his own sallow reflection in the mirror. There is a rough tangle of bruises like a dirty water color painting all down his back and into his hips. “He’s not here.” 

“What?!” Cora asks. He hears her voice grow distant for a moment as she turns her head away from the phone’s microphone sensor. “He says Derek isn’t with him.” Stiles hears Cora tell somebody next to her. “Where is he?” Cora’s voice is back in full volume now. 

“I uh... I don’t know.” Stiles says, still staring at his back distractedly. He gingerly lifts one hand up to poke at a swatch of puce on his hip. “He’s with the men. Something happened with flooding...” 

“What the hell do you mean he’s with the men?” Cora asks. “What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” 

“Uh... Ryanne said something about the levies?” Stiles says, feeling dumb, feeling like his tongue can’t keep up with the alpha’s demanding questions. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cora’s voice says. “Not that again. Good fucking Christ.” Her voice goes distance again and he hears her calling, “Yeah, he says Derek’s lands flooded again. I bet the cell phone service is out. Good lord!” Her voice comes back, “Stiles? Are you there?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles says. 

“Are you okay? You sound... I don’t know...” Stiles hears her wince. “Where is Lydia?” 

“With Derek.” Stiles says woodenly. 

“Sweetie,” Cora’s bouncy voice sound strained now, hushed. “Are you okay? Because you don’t sound okay. What’s wrong?” 

Stiles doesn’t answer for a moment. He swallows, feeling a huge terrible lump in his throat. For one second he’s worried he’s about to be sick again. 

“Honey,” Cora sound uncharacteristically concerned. “What’s up? Did something happen?” Stiles shakes his head at himself in the mirror as if Cora can see him, still too choked by his own throat to speak. “What happened?!” Cora demands, her voice urgent now. “Sitles?!” 

“I... I got to go.” Stiles says finally. 

“No!” Cora is almost shrieking now. “What is wrong with you? Stiles, you’re scaring me!” 

“I’m fine.” Stiles says, shaking his head, knowing he’s got to pull it together. “I just...” 

“Stiles,” Cora’s voice is softer now. “Where is my brother? Where is Derek?” 

“I told you.” Stiles says, feeling as if he’s in some sort of nightmare. “He’s gone.” 

“Well when is he coming home?” Cora demands.

“I don’t know.” Stiles says hollowly. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters!” Cora says. “Does he know you’re not... you’re not doing so well, honey?” 

“He... uh...” Stiles searches for the words. “It’s not his fault.”

“Why would this be Derek’s fault?” Cora’s voice is sharp. “What did he do?” 

“Cora-“

“Stiles!” Cora is insistent and her voice breaks a little. “You’re really scaring me right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says helplessly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stiles, you need to talk to my brother.” Cora says, sniffling a little. “You need to tell Derek how you’re feeling.”

“No.” Stiles says quietly. “I’m fine. I’m just... I’m tired.” 

“No, Stiles,” Cora says. “You need to talk to Derek.” 

“Why?” Stiles asks, hearing his voice grow hard. “I said I’m fine!” 

“Stiles, have you ever thought that maybe you need my brother?” Cora demands through her tears. “And that maybe my brother needs you?” 

Stiles stares at the phone. “What?” He squeaks when he finally finds his voice. 

“You and Derek need each other, Stiles!” Cora says vehemently. “I don’t know what’s going on but just talk to him, please!” She sobs a little into the phone. “He doesn’t know how to be without you. Just talk to him. Please.” 

“Cora,” Stiles hears his voice grow softer and yet infinitely colder. “I’m fine. Derek is fine. Derek doesn’t need me. We’re good. Everything is good. Okay? You tell your mom and everyone that everything is good here. You hear?” 

“Stiles,” Cora’s voice is pleading over the phone. “You need to know-“ 

“I’m fine, Cora.” Stiles says. “You tell everyone hello for me. I have to go help Ryanne with some things.” He hangs up the phone, turning to pull on a shirt.  



	36. Interlude: While the Cat's Away

Cora stares at the phone in her freshly manicured hand, the florescent orange and kiwi nails bright against the rose gold plating on the device. She looks up, unseeing in the morning light of her sister’s penthouse in DC from where she’s perched on a white leather armchair and runs her fingers tensely through her mop of unruly hair. Laura’s apartment is gleaming and modern. A square vase of fresh short cut cream roses sits on the mirrored coffee table where Cora has her feet resting in front of her. She looks up to the well dressed pair sitting in beyond the table. 

A female omega with pretty brown hair and kind green eyes looks back at her. “Are you okay, Cora?” She asks, clearly concerned. “Is everything alright?” 

Cora looks back at the omega. “Stiles,” She says, nodding down to the phone. 

“Is he okay?” The other person in the room, a tall, broad alpha with the same light brown hair and comely features of the omega asks. He stands up, looking down at the alpha female, pulling on his sterling cufflinks. 

“I don’t know.” Cora says. She blinks as if trying to clear her head. She looks back up at the other alpha. “Warren,” She says. “Have you ever met my brother?” 

“I’m afraid Derek is the only member of your family I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting,” The alpha says. 

“I think you should.” Cora says, standing up as well. 

“Now?” Warren asks. 

“You have jet.” Cora says with a smile. “Or at least you’re always telling me how fast it is. Come on,” She says, one eyebrow raised. “Let’s go back to Beacon Hills.”

“Cora, your mom-“ The omega starts. 

“My mother has Laura and Kent and about a hundred staffers.” Cora rolls her eyes. “She won’t even notice we’re gone.” 

“Cora-“ The omega puts her hand out on Cora’s arm. 

“Okay, she will, but I’ll tell her it’s my fault. She’ll totally believe that.” Cora says quickly. 

“I think she’s right.” The alpha speaks up. “I want to have a talk with Derek Hale. Let’s go.”


	37. Dressing for Battle

Stiles sits out in front of the game keeper’s house, squatting in front of the fire. He stares into the fire, exhausted. He’s spent the last two days going here and there around the vast Hale property on foot at the whims of the head housekeeper, an thin omega in his sixties with a grim, disapproving face named, Dayton. The housekeeper had ordered Stiles through a number of tasks from sun up to sun down, mostly carrying heavy wheelbarrow loads of water jugs out to the field hands on foot. Dayton seemed to have a very specific view on Stiles’ role in the household; he kept referring to Stiles as ‘the lesser wife’- never his name. Beyond the seemingly endless list of physical tasks, Dayton seemed to think Stiles was entirely beneath his notice. 

The pompous old omega and the grueling labor don’t bother Stiles. He isn’t like other omegas and his hands aren’t the hands of a high born debutante, like Ryanne’s. Stiles learned early on that sometimes you trade your pride for your freedom- he’s worked odd jobs around the country for the last ten years for cash. He isn’t afraid of sweating. Anyways, the physical strain almost distracts Stiles from the aches Derek left in his body. At the end of the day, he almost can’t feel anything at all. There is something about watching Derek’s operation here from the inside out, seeing Derek’s workers, hard working, honest alphas with families, and knowing Derek has created a way for these men to live in dignity. He’s proud of Derek in that way. Derek was always a great leader, a great alpha. Derek gives thousands of people what they need to live and flourish happily. Looking at it that way, it seems selfish to hold it against Derek that he can’t give Stiles alone what he needs. 

Still, even with all the logic, the mental scales of justice being balanced again and again in Stiles’ head, even with the physical fatigue, Stiles can’t stop wanting. It is its own illness. He looks out over the fields, part of him wanting nothing more than to see his old friend riding towards him, to have Derek in his sight, close enough to breathe in his home scent, to watch him smile, to hear his voice, even if he isn’t talking to Stiles- Stiles is hungry for that, longs for it as if it’s his sole purpose in life to be by Derek’s side. It is sick and Stiles is sick of himself along with it. 

It is not a crime to not love someone the way it is to take something that isn’t yours. The way Stiles did simply by coming home. 

Stiles looks up at two blinding headlights coming in his direction. He stands up and puts up his hand to block his eyes. A purring black shiny Bently Continental GT stops a mere foot away from Stiles outside of the Gamekeeper’s drive. Stiles stares at it in confusion as the passenger door is thrown open and Lydia smirks up at him through a flawless coat of Tom Ford lipstick.

“Get in.” She says and Stiles obeys her, not questioning if he even has a choice. 

He straps himself in as Lydia pulls out with screeching tires. He turns to her. “I thought you were with Derek.” He says. 

“I was.” She replies. 

“Oh.” Stiles says looking around the svelte interior. “You get a new car?” 

“No.” Lydia says. “You did. This is Derek’s wedding present to you.” 

“That is... absurd.” Stiles says staring at the luxury steering wheel. “ And completely unnecessary. Does he even know about this?” 

“You should thank me.” Lydia says tartly. 

“Why should I thank you?” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I don’t want this thing. It’s ostentatious and ridiculous.” 

“I talked him down.” Lydia replies. “He wanted to get you an SUV too.” She waggles her eyebrows at him. “Said you might need the extra space.” 

Stiles does a double take at her. “What?”

“Just say thank you like a nice boy.” Lydia says. 

“Thank you?” Stiles repeats awkwardly. 

“You are welcome.” Lydia says. “And as a small token of your appreciation for everything I do for you, you’re not going to fight me on this next part.” 

Stiles blanches. “There’s a next part?” 

“Yes.” Says Lydia. “And because I’m not Derek we are not going to discuss it and I’m not going to talk you into it. You’re going to sit there and let me do it and that’s the end of it.” She shoots him a sharp look. 

“Uh.” Stiles says. “Are we about to kill someone?”

“You wish.” Lydia says pulling up to a moderate but beautiful house on the edge of the farm. She marches out of the car and pulls over Stiles’ door. “You’re getting a haircut.” She says, pulling his arm and herding him into the doorway of her house. 

“Also, unnecessary.” Stiles mutters.

“False.” Lydia says, leading him into her brightly lit living room. The whole room is covered in opened packages from luxury and bespoke artisans. Boxes of Italian shoes, garment racks filled with shirts and slacks and coats. A team of two women and a man in black clothes are unpacking black cases of cosmetic supplies. “Cora, that little instigator, texted me as soon as I was able to get cell phone service again. She’s flying into the main house tomorrow morning with two esteemed visitors from Washington. Now that little curly-headed terror wouldn’t tell me who they were but we have to be ready. I hate to tell you this, Stiles,” she says, looking at him critically. “But it is time to look like an omega again.” 

“I look like an omega.” Stiles says crossly. 

“You look like an undergrown alpha from a third world country.” Lydia corrects him. She looks around at the luxury goods with sheer determination in her eyes. “You married the big dog.” She says. “It’s high time you started looking like the head bitch.” 

“I am not... the whatever.” Stiles says. “You may recall that job has already been taken. By someone we both know was pretty much born for that title.” 

“Oh Stiles.” Lydia looks at him as if he’s positively simple. “You’re a grownup. And grownups don’t dress for the jobs they have, they dress for the jobs that were forced upon them by life. Ask any working mother.” 

Stiles sighs but allows himself to be led over to the stylists chair by one of the black clothed women. “For the record,” Stiles says to Lydia. “You’re insane.”

“Sure, blame me.” Lydia says, looking unperturbed. “I don’t care.” She turns to the stylist. “You better do something about those nails while you’re here.” She eyes Stiles suspiciously. “It looks like you’ve been out working in the fields all day.”


	38. Un-Loved

Fourteen hours later Stiles pulls up in his new car to the drive of Derek’s house feeling very much as though he could no longer pick himself out of a crowd of two. Lydia is wearing a fresh black work Valentino work dress and new coat of lipstick. She gets out of the passenger side of the car and walks over to open his door for him. After being throughly accosted by team of stylists, Stiles had caught a few hours of sleep in her guest room. Stiles isn’t sure if the petite alpha slept at all last night but he has a sinking suspicion Lydia actually derives her energy solely from Christian Lacroix shoes and his physical discomfort. She marches the two of them up and into the front door, opening the house with a key from her wallet. In the foyer Stiles can hear the sound of voices coming from the kitchen.

He pauses by the mirror in the front hall, pulling off the pair of dark Versace sunglasses Lydia had popped on his head before he’d started driving his new car for the first time. Stiles’ face is still thin, his cheekbones are still high and sharply defined, but he is different somehow. His clothes actually fit for the first time in maybe ever. Lydia had the stylists manhandle him into a pair of perfectly tailored, slim charcoal trousers, that hugged him in all the right places. Over that he was wearing a crisp white shirt, cut fashionably low in the front as was the highest style for omegas. Over it Lydia had swung an immaculately cut black vest, hanging open. Stiles’ shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms revealing two antiqued bracelets of gleaming gold, set with small black diamonds and sapphires. Around his neck Stiles wore a leather necklace with the Hale crest pendant also in black diamonds and sapphires. Talia had apparently sent over an omega jewelry wardrobe with pieces that had been in the family for a long time.

Lydia’s pert face appears in the mirror next to his. “You look beautiful.” She says proudly.

“I look... weird.” Stiles mutters. “Like someone I’m not.”

“I don’t think so.” Lydia says with an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “I think this is actually who you really are, who you’ve always been.”

“An under-grown alpha in an outfit that costs enough to feed an entire third world country?” Stiles raises an eyebrow at her.

“No,” Lydia says. “An omega who is loved by one of the most prominent families in the country. You’re a Hale.”

“By law only.” Stiles says, looking away self-consciously. “And only because of a law. Hopefully I can go back to dressing like myself soon, and you know, the carriage will turn back into a pumpkin and everything.”

“I don’t know if it works that way.” Lydia says knowingly. “You can take the omega out of the Hales, but I’m not sure you can take the Hale out of the omega.” She smiles at him. “You can’t just un-love something.”

“Well, here’s hoping you’re wrong.” Stiles says, turning to enter the kitchen.


	39. A New Wind

Stiles doesn’t know what he was expecting when he entered the Hale kitchen, but the scene that lay before him was definitely not it. Cambria was at the island having fresh fruit in her pink pajamas again, sitting on Cora’s lap. Next to Cora sat a beautiful young omega female in a silk blouse and Chanel skirt suit. There was something vaguely familiar about the way she smiled when she looked up as he entered the room. Ryanne was pouring her coffee from a silver kettle. Next to Ryanne stood a tall, broad alpha male with a startlingly recognizable face. 

Apparently the alpha was the last thing Lydia had expected to see as well. “You!” She said, accusingly at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Warren Hawthorne doesn’t even glace at the petite alpha redhead. He’s gaping at Stiles. “Stiles?” He asks, his bright blue eyes wide. The handsome alpha does a double take and Stiles can feel his eyes rolling up and down his form. “Is that you?” 

“You look pretty, Uncle Stiles.” Cambria chirps with a mouthful of red strawberry. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Stiles says, still in shock at seeing Senator Warren Hawthorne in Derek’s kitchen. "But I must say, I'm shocked to see you. What are you doing here?” 

"Wow." Warren says. "You look... amazing." Warren’s brilliant grin covers his whole face now. He’s walking over towards Stiles. He stops right in front of the omega. “Actually,” Warren continues, looking down at Stiles. “I’m looking for you.”

“In random peoples’ kitchens?” Stiles asks, still confused. “Wow. You got lucky.” 

“No,” Warren laughs. “Cora actually tipped me off to where you were by accident really. We were talking and she showed me your wedding picture.” Warren smiles. “Wow. I can’t believe you’re married. I had no idea you were attached to anyone.” He looks a little sheepish. “Not like that’s any of my business. You just never mentioned...” 

“Yeah,” Stiles blushes. “I mean, it was kind of... unplanned.” He laughs a little uneasily, looking down at the shining ring on his finger. “I mean, a lot happened really quickly.” He looks back up at the alpha. “Why were you looking for me?” 

“Well,” Warren starts, “I guess I was worried. You could call it typical alpha over-protectiveness.” He laughs a little. “You just... you didn’t show up for work. I didn’t know what happened to you.” 

“I left a note.” Stiles says. 

“It didn’t say much.” Warren shrugs. “Just thanking me and saying you had to go. I was worried something happened to you.” 

“Excuse me.” Lydia says, coming up in-between them like a weed. She turns her sharp gaze on Warren. “You want to tell me, Senator, how you know Derek’s wife?” 

“Now Ms. Martin, surely you won’t hold my party affiliation against me here.” Warren grins at her charmingly. Lydia is not buying it.

“You would do well to remember whose home you are in, Senator.” Lydia says. “I doubt very much Senator Hale would approve of you fraternizing with her son’s wife.” 

“Warren is a friend, Lydia.” Stiles says carefully. “I’ve been working for him on his hobby farm for the past year.” 

“My vacation property in out state New York.” Warren clarifies. 

Lydia rounds on him. “You have been working in the fields!” She exclaims this as if Stiles had just admitted to drowning babies. 

“Yes,” Stiles says. “I had to eat somehow.” 

“I had no idea you knew the Hales.” Warren says to Stiles. “You never mentioned them.” 

“Derek and Stiles have been best friends since they were children.” Lydia supplies, still glaring at Warren. “Stiles is part of the family. Legally now.” 

“I just...” Stiles shrugs. “It never came up.” 

“You knew I was a senator.” Warren says. “Talia is one of my colleagues.” 

“I know.” Stiles says. “I guess... I didn’t really think about it.” 

“I can’t believe you married Derek Hale.” Warren says, blinking. “I mean, congratulations. Wow.” He shakes his head. “Forgive me. I’m just really surprised.” 

“What’s so surprising about it?” Lydia demands. 

“I’m sorry.” Warren says with a warm smile directed towards Stiles. “I just never thought you’d be a second wife.” 

Stiles feels himself grow a little cold at that. He looks down, unsure of what to say. Finally he looks back up at Warren. “Derek and I have known each other for a long time.” Is all he says. 

“I’m sure.” Warren says. “I’ve known the Hale family for a long time, myself.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles says. 

“Yes, my sister, Heather,” Warren motions towards the omega sitting next to Cora. “Is a good friend of Cora’s. I actually own property a mile from here as well. When Cora told me you’d married her brother I could resist coming to see how you were doing. I worried after you left in such a hurry.” 

“That’s really great of you.” Stiles smiles at Warren. “Thanks. That means a lot. You were always good to me, Warren.” 

“You make it easy, Stiles.” Warren says, with a grin. “So Cora told me you got a new car?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles laughs. “You want to go for a ride?” 

“Absolutely.” Warren says.


	40. Like That

Stiles turns into the foyer with Warren by his side when Lydia follows him out and grabs his arm, pulling him around with her unnatural strength.  
  
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She demands, hissing up at the omega.  
  
"Out." Stiles says, pulling his arm free of her perfectly manicured grip.

Lydia looks over Stiles' shoulder to where the handsome alpha is looking at them both. "Not with him, you're not."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Stiles raises his eyebrows. "Watch me." He begins to walk over to the door again.

"You are a married omega!" Lydia hisses. "And not to him. You can't just walk out that door with an alpha who isn't your husband." She eyes Warren, "One who plays for the opposition, I might add."

"I'm saddened that you would bring politics into this, Ms. Martin." Warren says walking over to them with a flawless smile. "I consider Stiles a friend of mine. He was living on my property for almost a year. Surely you don't think I would let anything happen to him."  
  
Lydia looks at Warren as if the broad alpha is two feet tall. "It's no secret, Hawthorne, that I don't trust you. And quite frankly- you know why. But the fact that you and your family have made political careers out of pandering to the lowest common denominator through the most flamboyant displays of fact manipulation and fear-mongering rhetoric seen in this country since the civil war is actually not the reason why I can't let you walk out the door with Stiles. As amazing as it might sound to your over-inflated ego, this is not about you."  
  
"Lydia, oh my God!" Stiles say, pinching the bridge of his nose, embarrassed.  
  
Lydia ignores him. She still has her tiny manicured finger in Warren's face. "This is about the alpha I work for." She continues. "Now I don't know what you've heard about Derek, but if you think he's going to allow me to live if I let that omega leave with you or any other alpha while he's not here, you've been misinformed. Again."  
  
"Well Ms. Martin you don't pull punches, do you?" Warren looks down at her thoughtfully.  
  
"I have a job to do, Senator." Lydia says, folding her arms. "One that I take a lot more seriously than you seem to take yours."  
  
"Lydia," Stiles sighs. "Stop this." He turns towards the indignant little alpha. "You know Derek isn't going to care if I hang out with one of my friends. And that's what Warren is- he's not out to get me or anyone else. I lived on his ranch for like a year for Christ sakes. And I did kind of leave in a hurry. I'm sure he just wants to catch up."  
  
"Okay, putting aside the fact that I don't think you're in any state of mind to judge what Derek cares about, you are married. And around here that means something."  
  
Stiles lowers his voice a little. "We both know I'm not married _like that_. And even if I was, I'm not going to live like that. Now I'm going to go and everything is going to be fine." He turns back to Warren and opens the car door. "Come on." He says.  
  
"Bye Ms. Martin." Warren calls with a smile. "I promise not to let anything happen to him."  
  
"You have just frosted your own glass, pal." Lydia mutters, glaring at them disapprovingly from the drive.  
  
"I'm sorry about her." Stiles says as they pull out onto a country road. "She's a little intense. I'm sure all the stress lately hasn't helped."  
  
"Ms. Martin has quite the reputation up on the hill." Warren chuckles. "Seems like you certainly have a lot of protectors around here."  
  
"The Hale women are... really something." Stiles says, sighing.  
  
"That they are." Warren agrees. "Talia Hale is a pitbull. I'm not surprised Derek has someone just like her running his life."  
  
"Derek has a lot going on." Stiles shrugs.  
  
"I'm sure." Warren says. "You two been friends a long time, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." Stiles nods. "Since we were kids. Best friends. Talia is kind of like the mom I never had. Laura too. Derek's daughter is my godchild."  
  
"Wow." Warren says. "You never spoke of them. I mean, we used to have lunch together in the yard more days than not. I can't remember you ever talking about people back where you came from."  
Stiles shrugs. "I haven't seen them a whole lot in the past few years."  
  
"I see." Warren looks over at Stiles, his bright blue eyes gentle. "Stiles, forgive me if this is none of my business, but what did you mean when you said you're 'not married like that?'"  
  
Stiles stares out into the open road, his features unreadable. Warren was the youngest sitting senator in the country's history and given the alpha's political leanings, Stiles had always known the Hale family couldn't exactly be on friendly terms with Warren's camp. However, when Stiles had happened upon Warren's small hobby ranch in upstate New York last year, he'd been hungry and tired and hadn't known who the owner was. He'd found the young, handsome owner of the ranch kind and easy to talk to. He'd give Stiles a place to stay with some of the other omega help and steady work. Over the course of a few months the two had built an easy friendship. It got so Stiles didn't even think of Warren as a senator or as having anything to do with Talia Hale, although the alpha frequently left to go into DC for work. He sighs, Warren had always been fair to him, more than fair- the alpha had been kind and a good listener. Stiles supposes the man who'd given him a job and a roof deserves the truth.  
  
"Derek and I are friends." He says finally. "We don't have a relationship beyond that."  
  
"But you married him." Warren looks confused.  
  
"Yeah." Stiles nods. He's quiet for a moment. "I didn't know what else to do. With the new laws and everything. I didn't want to end up in a government camp, so I wrote you a note saying I had to leave and I came here. Derek married me because we didn't know what else to do. And that's it."  
   
"Wow." Warren says. "That's.... wow." He turns to Stiles, "Did you not want to marry Derek Hale?"  
  
Stares straight ahead, not looking at the alpha. At last he says, "I didn't want anyone dictating how I should live my life." He frowns. "We didn't have a lot of time or options."  
  
"I just wish you felt like you could have come to me with this." Warren says quietly. "I wish you hadn't just up and left. I could have helped you."

"You were my boss, Warren." Stiles says. "And you had already done more than enough for me. This wasn't your responsiblity."

"Maybe not." Warren says. "But I also kind of thought maybe I was your friend. I just wish you would have trusted me enough to let me know, you know?"  
  
"Warren," Stiles sighs. "This wasn't a matter of trust. I was..." He trails off, shaking his head. "I was scared."  
  
"So you came back to familiar territory." Warren says.  
  
"Yeah," Stiles says. "I guess."  
   
"I'm sorry," Warren say, putting his hand on Stiles' arm. "It really bothers me that you were living on my property and under my care and you were scared. I wish there was something I could have done."  
   
"Typical alpha." Stiles smiles rolling his eyes. "I was hardly 'under your care.' I worked for you."  
  
"Yeah," Warren says. "You might have been working for me, but I cared about you, Stiles. I care about you." He amends. "I thought we were maybe a little closer than just boss and employee."  
  
"Look," Stiles sighs. "You're a great guy, Warren. I always liked you." He smiles over at the alpha. "I just... I guess I panicked. Don't take it personally. Cutting and running is something I do well."  
  
"Well next time I'd rather have you running to me rather than away." Warren smiles.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind." Stiles smiles back.


	41. Coiled

The fantasies are getting completely out of hand and, if he's honest, a little ridiculous. Derek is a grown man who has been married for almost ten years and has a young daughter and yet something in him feels taut, tightly coiled, an aggressive heat licking at his gut in a way he hasn't felt since he was a teenager. Derek is quiet through most of the rescue effort, grunting his way through debris and lifting loads that would normally take two men his size. He feels strong, powerful and virile in a way he hasn't experienced as a grown man.There is something simmering, hot and impatient in his blood. He works himself hard all day; the alpha, the great protector of his grateful employees and their families, and is still restless at night. He stalks up and down the hotel corridors, driving Boyd crazy. There is something in Derek that will not settle, that whines and longs and spurs him into deep unrest. 

He wants Stiles. He wants to hear his friend's laugh, see his face- yes, Derek wants that. But there is something more to his longing as well. A hot, tight, clawing need to feel the omega under his body, to blanket the smaller man in his own warmth, to burry his face in Stiles' neck and nip at the mating bite he left there the last time he held him. Derek needs these things in a rabid, tangible way and he won't settle, he won't be at peace until he can feel Stiles' warmth next to his again. 

Derek feels as if his whole body is flush and aching all the time now. His skin is sensitized to every sensation, any hint of stimulation sending his mind to Stiles and his body into a sort of fever. He's replayed their wedding night in his head a hundred times in the three days he's been gone. He'd been angry and desperate that night, and it had made him rushed, too eager to just be inside Stiles, too susceptible to the omega's goading. He hadn't taken the time to savor the omega's submission, to bask in the delicious high keening noises Derek had coaxed from Stiles' throat. Derek would not make the same mistake of rushing again. The next time he had his wife at disposal he fully intended to take his time, luxuriate in Stiles, in his scent, in the beautiful, tempting angles of his body, in the sensitive parts of the omega belonged to Derek alone. 

"Derek," Boyd is looking at him the way one might look at a feebly caged lion. He's been looking at him like that all this week. Derek looks down to where Boyd is offering him his phone in one outstretched hand. "Cell service is back up. You have like a dozen messages from Lydia." 

Derek looks down at his phone in alarm. After a tense moment he looks up again. "Call the jet." Derek grunts darkly, looking dangerous. "We're going home."


	42. Territory

Derek feels a bit better as he pulls up to the drive of his house with Boyd riding shotgun. It feels good and right to his alpha instincts to be back in his own territory where he has control, where his family lives safe and protected. Knowing he’s just seconds away from Stiles, seeing the omega, checking him over for himself, holding him in his arms again. He can feel his insides whining for the omega, as he keenly watches for any sign of Stiles' familiar form. Derek pulls the black SUV into park, and turns to see his new wife under the shade of a tree in the front yard. His heart leaps at the sight of his omega, at last, after three torturous days without him.

Almost in the same instant Derek fully comprehends the full scene and feels the rage, hard and lethal, shoot straight through his blood. Another alpha, a tall, broad handsome man Derek recognizes as the illustrious Senator Warren Hawthorne, the youngest senator in history and one of Derek’s mother’s most out-spoken opponents is in Derek’s yard with Derek’s wife, smiling down at Stiles and touching the omega’s shoulder like he has any right to be that close to him. And Stiles is smiling back up at this alpha, this neo-con fascist in the same light familiar way Stiles usually reserves for Derek. Stiles is allowing the alpha to be this close to him. Stiles is allowing this alpha to touch him. To Derek’s relief the omega looks okay- better than okay even. Derek has long since stopped noticing Stiles clothing or the way the omega looked, but he sees that Lydia was in no way joking around. Stiles looks confident, self-assured and casually gorgeous. The simple but luxurious clothes Lydia chose for Stiles fit the omega almost magically and allow for Stiles’ natural sparkle and magnetic beauty to shine through. Derek notes with an instant swelling of pride and something darker, something like raw lust and the need to possess and mark when he takes in Stiles wearing his family crest around his neck. 

Derek lets out a low, unconscious growl. He gets out of the car and slams the door, stalking purposefully towards the couple. 

Behind him Boyd scrambles out as well. “Derek!” He calls in a warning voice. But the alpha isn’t listening. 

From the front of the house, Lydia, Ryanne, Cora, Cambria, and Heather tumble out of the door. 

“Daddy!” Cambria yells, coming up to hug Derek. 

“Derek-“ Lydia starts, jogging out to him as fast as her heels can carry her. 

Derek glances down at his daughter and gives her a quick hug. “You go back inside now, okay Cam? I'll talk to you in a little bit.” He says, looking up at Ryanne. 

“Derek, don’t-“ Lydia says, looking over at Stiles with a worried expression. 

“Ryann,” Derek calls, his voice low, dangerous. “Take our daughter inside and shut the door.” 

“Derek!” Ryanne hurries over and scoops up Cambria in his arms. “What-“

“Do it.” Derek growls, his attention focused solely on the alpha in front of him. “Now.” 

Pale-faced, Ryanne wordlessly turns and walks back into the house with Cambria, shutting the door after himself. 

“Is your brother okay?” Heather asks nervously from the side, looking at Cora. “What’s his deal?” 

Cora shrugs. “Nah. He’s golden.” She says, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Stiles has noticed Derek’s arrival by now. Of course he has. Stiles always knows when Derek is close. He and the young senator turn to face the stony alpha. 

“Derek.” Stiles says, his eyes beautiful in the outdoor sunlight. He doesn’t step towards Derek or make any move to come to him or step away from Senator Hawthorne. This does not please Derek. “You’re home.” 

“Yes.” Derek says, continuing to glower at the alpha invader. 

“The famous Derek Hale.” The alpha steps towards him with a wide, bright smile, his broad hand outstretched. “We meet at last.” 

Derek’s hand shoots out and he encompasses the other alpha’s hand in what he hopes is a crippling grip and doesn’t let go. “Senator Warren Hawthorne.” He says lowly, fixing his intense gaze on the other man. “Your reputation proceeds you, Sir. My mother has spoken of you.” 

“I’m sure she has.” Warren’s grin tightens. He meets Derek’s intense stare with one of his own. “But surely as man as worldly as yourself knows better than to believe DC gossip.” 

Derek releases the senator’s hand. He reaches out and gently pulls Stiles to his side. The omega seems surprised and doesn’t fight him. Derek turns his attention from the senator and hunches over his best friend protectively, every cell in his body breathing a sigh of relief at their first touch. He reaches out and cups his large hand over Stiles’ still-red mating bite. 

“Stiles.” He murmurs. “Are you okay? Let me look at you.”

The omega backs up a step and shoots Derek a sharp look. “I’m fine.” He says. 

How can he be fine? Derek wonders. Of course he’s not fine- Stiles doesn’t even smell like Derek anymore. 

“Come on,” Derek says, trying to pull Stiles in close again. “Let’s go inside. Are you hungry?” 

To Derek’s infinite frustration Stiles doesn’t move. Instead, he looks over at the other alpha. 

“Derek, this is Warren. I guess you knew that.” Stiles says. 

“Yes, I know who he is.” Derek says, looking at the alpha through gritted teeth. “What I don’t understand is what he’s doing here.” He eyes up Hawthorne. “I thought my mother made it clear that your sister is welcome here- you are not.” 

“Derek!” Stiles says. 

“You always listen to what your mother says?” The senator says. “You don’t even know me.” 

“You were alone without a chaperone with my wife.” Derek says coldly. “That is all I need to know.” He reaches down and pulls back one side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered under his arm. 

“Derek, oh my God!” Stiles says, reaching out and pulling on Derek’s arm. “What are you doing? Put that away!”

“He’s right.” Derek says to the senator. “I don’t need a gun to run scum like you off my property.” 

“Is this how he is with you?” Warren asks Stiles like he has any right to talk to him. “Bullying you like this? Not listening to you?” 

“Derek, come on.” Stiles says, reaching for his hands. Derek allows Stiles to hold his hands, the feeling of the omega’s skin is soothing to his boiling temper. He leans down and nudges Stiles’ head, scent-marking the omega. He feels better now that Stiles is close and allowing him to touch him. 

“Derek, Warren is a friend of mine.” Stiles says, leaning his head away so he can talk to Derek. “I worked for him this year. He’s a good guy, really.” Derek looks down at Stiles beseeching face. “You’re just stressed.” Stiles says. “It’s okay.” 

Derek leans over and lays his cheek against Stiles’ forehead, wrapping his arms around the slender omega. “I missed you.” He murmurs, low into Stiles hair. 

“You’re tired.” Stiles says. “How much sleep have you gotten? Let’s go inside.” 

“Are you really okay?” Derek asks, looking down at Stiles, unbelieving. 

“Yes.” Stiles says, exasperated trying to tactfully step away from Derek’s arms. “Good God.” 

“You hungry?” Derek asks him, not wanting to let go of the squirming omega. 

“Yeah, fine.” Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“Will you eat something?” Derek presses. 

“Sure, whatever.” Stiles says. “Just calm down, okay?” 

“Mr. Hale,” Warren steps forwards. “If I may, I’d like a moment of your time away from the ladies and the omegas.” 

“Oh?” Derek says, looking at the alpha over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Yes.” The senator says. “I have some business to discuss with you. I promise, it will be worth your time.” 

“Very well.” Derek says. “Come into my office.” He turns down to Stiles. “You eat something.” He says. “I’ll be back soon. Stay in the kitchen.” 

“Whatever.” Stiles rolls his eyes and follows Cora and Heather into the house.


	43. Another Dysfunctional Proposal

Derek shuts the door to his office with a resounding click. He turns to face the other alpha, his face as unreadable as a statue's. He fixes his gaze on the man who was only a minute ago touching Stiles, willing himself not to strike out. Derek takes a decanter from his sideboard and pours them both glasses of scotch. He slides on over to the irritatingly unruffled senator and motions for Hawthorne to take a seat. The other alpha does smoothly, expansive and casual. Confident, not at all intimidated by being in Derek’s territory. He raises the glass cheerfully. 

“Thank you.” The senator says, taking a sip. “This is good.” 

Derek nods over his glass, sitting down across for the senator. He stares the glib alpha down silently, waiting for him to get on with it so Derek can return to Stiles. 

“You have a lovely home, Mr. Hale.” The senator remarks pleasantly. 

“I doubt you came here to check out the real estate, Senator.” Derek says lowly. “And with all due respect, I’ve had a long week away. Either get on with it or kindly stop wasting my time.” 

“You and Ms. Martin must have graduated from the same finishing school, I see.” The senator smiles. Derek just glares back. “Very well.” The senator shrugs before setting his ice blue eyes on Derek. “It would seem, Mr. Hale that you and I have a shared interest.” 

“If you are referring to my wife, I fail to see how Stiles is of any concern of yours.” Derek says coldly. 

“Yes, your wife.” Warren Hawthorne nods. “I was informed of that recent development in your family. Stiles is your wife.” He shoots Derek a meaningful look. “Legally, anyways.” 

“Yes,” Derek says through gritted teeth. “Legally. And in all other ways as well.” 

“Care to clarify?” The senator raises his eyebrows over the desk. 

“There is nothing to clarify, Senator.” Derek says icily. “This isn’t one of your pedantic hearings on the hill.” He sets his jaw. “Stiles is mine in every way an omega can belong to an alpha. Legally, yes.” Derek nods. “We were married with many of your colleagues there to witness the event. But also mentally- Stiles is my best friend. He’s been my best friend our entire lives, and as such I can anticipate his needs better than anyone else. He is also mine emotionally. He came home to me when these laws were about to be passed- not the state, not the government, not his employer. He came to me. He knows I’ve always protected him and I always will.” Derek looks over at Hawthorne imperiously. “Make no mistake. He is mine.”

“Not every way.” Hawthorne scoffs. “You may control him. I know you Hales are quite good at controlling everyone around you and telling yourselves that is the same thing as submission.” Hawthorne leans over, his eyes narrowed, his voice low. “But you and I are both red blooded alphas. We both know there’s only one way an omega can truly belong to an alpha. Stiles would never submit to you.” 

Derek leans forwards as well, meeting the senator with stony, immovable eyes. “I said, every way, Senator, and I meant every way.” 

Hawthorne sits upright, clearly affronted. “You lie.” He growls. 

“I don’t have to lie about Stiles.” Derek growls back. “He knows the truth. Omegas know who their alphas are.” Derek narrows his eyes. “You come near him again, and I will rip your throat out and display your head on my front gate.”

“That poor omega.” Hawthorne says ruefully. “You can tell yourself whatever you want, Hale. You’re not the only one who knows Stiles.” 

“You don’t know anything about him.” Derek hisses. 

“I know enough to know he can’t possibly be happy with a controlling, over-bearing asshole.” Hawthorne shoots back. “He told me himself he was scared. He’s been running from those laws for all of his adult life. He doesn’t want you. He just doesn’t want to run anymore. The only reason he allows you to touch him is fear. I hope that makes you feel real good about yourself, Hale.” 

“And who does he have to thank you for those laws?” Derek asks angrily. “I wonder what Stiles would think of your voting record, senator? Does he know that you’re a self-righteous neo-con who helped pass those laws?” 

“I’m so glad you brought that up.” Hawthorne says with a sickening smile. “That is exactly what I wanted to talk with you about, Hale.” He looks down at his cuticles casually. “In light of recent findings, I may be willing to change my position on the omega protection laws.” 

“What are you talking about?” Derek growls. 

“It is no secret that your family has been vehemently and publicly opposed to the recent omega protection laws.” Hawthorne looks at Derek. “Your mother, in particular, is staking her career, her legacy on getting those laws repealed.” 

“They are sick and arcane and you know it.” Derek says angrily. 

“And yet you personally have benefited greatly from them.” Hawthorne nods. 

“That is absurd!” Derek says, his eyes flashing. 

“Oh? So Stiles didn’t marry you because of these laws?” Hawthorne queries. “You’re saying Stiles would still be here, married to you if he thought he had other options?” 

“Stiles and I were always going to spend our lives together.” Derek argues back. “That was always the plan.” 

“Then why did Cora tell me that you promised Stiles you would get these laws repealed?” Hawthorne challenges. “Or were you just lying to him to get him into your bed?” 

“I would never lie to Stiles!” Derek thunders, looking as if he’d like to leap across the desk and throttle the other alpha. “Those laws are morally repugnant. That’s enough to want to get them repealed.” 

“So you didn’t promise Stiles you’d repeal them?” Hawthorne presses. 

“No, I did.” Derek admits. 

“Do you intend to follow through?” Hawthorne asks. 

“I have never broken a promise to Stiles.” Derek says. “I would never...” 

“What if I could find a way for you to keep your promise?” Hawthorne asks, his voice careful. 

“What?” Derek asks suspiciously. 

“I have allies on the hill, Derek.” Hawthorne says, his handsome face deadly serious. “Like your family, mine has a lot of connections. However, unlike your family, mine is well respected amongst the conservative factions of the senate. If your mother wants to repeal those laws she’s going to need conservative support. I can get her those votes.” 

“And why would you do that?” Derek asks, looking at the senator carefully. “It goes against everything you’ve done in your political career.” 

“Just like you,” Warren smiles. “I’m trying to help Stiles. I care about him. So I’m going to help your mother get the votes she needs, and in return you’re not going to get in the way of me seeing Stiles.” 

“What?” Derek growls. “What kind of statesman are you? Do you have any principles whatsoever? You’d be willing to sell out your entire caucus just like that?” 

“Oh I have principles.” Warren nods. “And right now my loyalties are to Stiles. Just like yours. So it seems as though I’m in a very fortuitous position for both you and your mother.” 

“You think I would just hand over Stiles like that for political gain?” Derek asks incredulously. 

“I am hardly asking you to hand him over.” Warren says easily, laughing humorlessly. “All I’m asking is for you to do what you know is the right thing anyways and not stand in the way of me seeing him. That’s it.” He smiles coolly. “And in return your mother’s legacy is secured, you get to keep your promise to Stiles, everybody wins.” 

“I don’t want Stiles anywhere near you.” Derek growls. 

“I’ve heard many things about you, Hale.” Warren says, not breaking eye contact. “But I didn’t expect you to be a coward.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Derek says, glowering at the other alpha. 

“No,” Hawthorne answers quickly. “You’re just afraid to let any other alpha get close to Stiles. You’re afraid if Stiles had other options he wouldn’t be so quick to come running to you.” Hawthorne laughs in disgust. “No wonder you don’t want to keep your promise to Stiles.” 

“Stiles will always come home to me. Always.” Derek seethes through gritted teeth. “You know nothing about him. About us.” 

“Then you have nothing to loose by accepting my proposal.” Warren says keenly. “If you’re so sure of yourself, so sure of Stiles’ devotion to you, why not take me up on my offer? You’d get what you want at no cost to you.” Warren tilts his head. “Only a scared man would refuse.” 

“Very well.” Derek says. “I accept. Get my mother the votes. Get the laws repealed.” 

“And Stiles?” Hawthorne asks eagerly. 

“I won’t stop you.” Derek says. “But if you hurt him in any way, I will kill you.” 

“Fair enough.” Hawthorne says, putting out his hand with a wide grin.


	44. Tempest

Derek watches the senator’s car until he can no longer see it on the long road in front of his property. Even then, he picks up his phone and texts the plate number to Burns: Follow him. Make sure he leaves. Then and only then does the head alpha male of the Hale empire turn back into his home and to his family. 

Derek feels himself grow deathly quiet, lethally still inside. The rage is still there, still very much alive and palpable inside, but it isn’t the uncontrolled, knee jerk rage of an adolescent alpha. It is cold, liquid mercury in his body, the mature, ancient, fight-to-the-death, winner-takes-all instinct of a pack leader. The rage of Achilles, the drive of Nero, the conqueror’s focus of Alexander; all of this lives on in Derek and alphas of his caliber. He has a family to herd, a child to protect, an omega to keep. The lackadaisical, loose handed way he’s had with the ones he loves is no longer enough. It is time to reassert dominance. It is time to steer the ship back to port.  
Derek is silent and nearly expressionless as he enters the kitchen. His family, his pack is waiting for him there nervously, not speaking, not looking at each other. They are waiting to take their ques from him. Derek glances around quickly, instantly taking in the scene, reading the body language of his pack, taking inventory. Heather, the pretty little omega sister of the threat is sitting at the kitchen island, her eyes downwards, almost hiding under her lashes. Cora stands behind her, her entire body a picture of feigned casualty, one hand resting on the back of Heather’s chair. She quickly glances at Derek the minute he enters the room, but shifts her eyes back downwards almost immediately. Ryanne is the closest to the door, he moves slightly towards Derek instantly, his neck exposed, his eyes supplicating, appeasing. Boyd is at the far end of the room, stoic and calm. He is easily the most relaxed of the group. He glances to Derek and doesn’t look away, his dark eyes questioning. Stiles is nowhere in sight. 

Derek opens his mouth, addressing the room in a cold, strong voice. “Where is my daughter?” 

Ryanne walks over to him, placing himself in front of the alpha, his posture carefully submissive. Almost a little too perfectly so. “She’s upstairs with Lydia.” 

Derek looks to Boyd. “Is her door closed?” 

Boyd nods, silent. 

Derek raises his eyebrows at him, a minute gesture that carries a clear question to his right hand man. 

Boyd’s eyes immediately shift over to the patio door in answer. 

“Derek,” Ryanne reaches out. 

Derek easily and coolly sidesteps his first wife’s grasp, stalking over to the patio door and yanking it open with one powerful move. He steps half of his broad body outside. A few yards from the door Stiles stands, looking up at the sky, a lit cigarette in his bony hand. Beautiful. Infuriating, maddeningly so. His best friend. His tormentor. His mate. The image is enough to incite the alpha to even greater levels. Derek feels himself grind his teeth. Stiles’ body makes the slightest movement, and the omega inhales deeply, as if he is steeling himself. Derek knows Stiles knows he’s back from his talk with the senator. Stiles doesn’t turn. The omega barely moves at all. 

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is carefully controlled, and yet carries a deadly level of anger all the same. “Come in here, please.” The omega exhales a long plume of smoke, staring at the sky. “Please.” Derek repeats.

Stiles appears to let out a hot breath and roll his eyes, one of his hands comes up and scratches at the bite on his neck, agitated. He stamps out the cigarette and stuffs his hands in his pockets before turning and shouldering his way past Derek into the house, not looking at the alpha. Derek follows the omega back into the kitchen, his eyes haunting Stiles’ neck.

Once they are all back in one room, Derek rounds on Cora, his eyes ablaze, “What the hell were you thinking?” He asks her. He is not yelling, but Derek’s voice is like a spring trap, ready to snap. Cora looks up at him defiantly. “How could you bring that into my home? Around my family?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cora spits. “I didn’t realize you ran a dictatorship, Derek. Was there some kind of Conservative embargo on the house I wasn’t aware of?” 

“Save it, Cora Jane.” Derek answers. “You knew exactly what you were doing. What I want to know is why my sister thought it was appropriate to bring one of our mother’s opponents into my home.” 

“You weren’t here.” Cora shrugs. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet.” 

“My rules still apply whether I am here or not.” Derek says. “Everyone here knows that. You deliberately disobeyed me. You brought another alpha here. To my territory.” Derek’s eyes flash over to where Stiles is standing with his arms crossed, looking at the floor. 

Cora looks over to the omega as well as if she expects Stiles to jump in at any time. When he doesn’t she turns back to her brother. “Oh for Christ’s sake! Will you listen to yourself?” Cora says. “This is not the hill! Not everything is about Mom’s job. Just because Warren has different political beliefs than you or I or Mom does not automatically make him a bad person.” She throws her hands up. “He was worried about Stiles. This wasn’t about the bills or the law. This was about him wanting to reconnect with a friend. You’d think you of all people would understand that. I thought Stiles would be happy to see him.” She looks over at the silent omega. “And he was.” 

“Derek,” Ryanne offers. “I was here the whole time. He was a perfect gentleman.” 

“That alpha was clearly over-stepping and he knew it.” Derek says. “He was deliberately flaunting his disrespect for me.” Derek looks down, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what this does to me? At the end of the day, it is my responsibility to keep everyone here safe.” Derek closes his eyes. “I could have killed him.” He says to himself. “I should have killed him. There isn’t a court in the country that would have convicted me.” 

“Stiles, are you listening to this?” Cora exclaims incredulously, rounding on the omega. 

Stiles looks up at her. “Yeah.” He nods. He’s been silent, but not passive. His eyes burning with something indescribable and hard. 

“Don’t you have something to say to your best friend about how much of a jackass he’s being?” 

“No.” Stiles says. 

“No?!” Cora shrieks, and Derek’s eyebrows actually go up in surprise. 

The thing about Stiles is he and Derek usually always regress back into the juvenile habits they cultivated as children when dealing with each other. Stiles- Derek’s Stiles is no more in the habit of pulling punches with the alpha than Derek’s own siblings. And now this? Derek doesn’t have a frame of reference for this. Is this how broken they are? How can Stiles be so flippant? Does Derek mean so little to him he doesn’t even warrant a reaction anymore?

“What do you expect me to say about this?” Stiles asks Cora. “There is no talking to him. There isn’t a thing I could say that would make a fucking difference when he gets like this. And I am done trying to deal with his fucking knothead control issues.” 

“Control issues?” Derek spits, turning and stalking towards his best friend. “You think I’m the one with control issues?”

Stiles’ breath puffs out as if he finds the whole interaction mildly irritating. He still won’t look at Derek. “Yeah, I do. This was about another alpha male deigning to come withing five miles of you without kissing your majestic Alpha Quarterly ass. Warren didn’t come anywhere near your kid. He didn’t touch your wife. I’m sure all the silver is still here. There was no real threat here. This is about you and your fat grownup alpha pride and your need to dominate the shit out of everything that moves. It’s not what I signed up for with you, and I’m done dealing with it.” 

Derek feels his lips curling back and a deep feral growl is emanating from his throat before he can even think. He gets in the omega’s space quickly, some part of him desperate to remind Stiles of his scent, raging inside that the omega can’t see, can’t understand how afraid he is of losing him, how Derek needs him beside him, content and pliant and happy as much as he needs his next breath. 

“You think that’s what this is about?” Derek positively snarls, his voice low. Derek has ceased to notice anyone in the room but Stiles. “All I’m doing, all I’ve ever done is for you. I am not the one here with control issues. That’s you, Stiles. You’re the one who controls me with your passive aggression, with refusing to talk to me, with your sulking, when you withhold yourself from me, when you threaten to keep yourself away. When you threaten to disappear.” Derek can feel himself, up close but not quite touching Stiles, his breath on Stiles skin, his anger and fear and frustration in the space between their bodies. Stiles is so beautiful and untouchable and angry and alpha instincts in Derek are going wild. “Do you have any idea what that does to me? You’re supposed to be my best friend. I thought you gave a shit about me. I don’t understand, Stiles. And you don’t even care enough to explain.” Derek’s voice is tight, desperate, furious. “You can’t even look at me.” Stiles’ face remains resolutely downwards. “Look at me!” 

When Stiles does, his eyes are angrier than Derek has ever seen them. “I don’t have to do a damn thing for you Derek! You pretentious, bullying self-righteous asshole! It is never enough for you, is it? Everything has to be on your terms. You think you’re protecting me and all I have to do is be what you want when you want and behave myself the rest of the fucking time. Know my place. You made me come home because you want to relive your childhood. You made me marry you because of your fears- not mine. You’ve had me in every way, on your terms, and I can’t take it any more, Derek! I’m done being your bitch!”  
“Oh abso-fucking-lutely!” Derek says. “This is my fault. It’s always my fault. You play fast and loose and you punish anyone who dares to give a shit about you. I’m the alpha so I must be the asshole here. You get to scare the shit out of everyone and I’m not allowed to stop you from killing yourself because it’s not politically correct to care about you!” 

“I don’t care about you!” Stiles bellows, his lips a mere centimeter away from Derek’s. They’re both up in each other’s face, screaming at each other, blind to the world around them. “Don’t you fucking get it? You made your choice, Derek. A long time ago. I’m not stupid. And I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this! So I’m not doing it! You mean nothing to me!”


	45. For Broke

The words are out before he can stop himself, and for a moment Stiles can’t breathe. 

The words do nothing to slow Derek down whatsoever. “Stop it!” The alpha orders, his whole body radiating anger. “You stop this right now, Stiles! You have no idea what you’re saying!” 

Completely overwhelmed and out of his head, Stiles hand is flying up to hit the alpha square in the jaw. Derek’s massive hand connects with Stiles’ wrist, stopping his attack instantly. A deep growl resonates from the alpha, and Derek’s other hand is huge and bruising on the back of Stiles’ neck, digging into the bite mark. Stiles finds himself being bent over and herded bodily from the room. A door slams behind them and Derek throws Stiles up against a wall, his hot breath in the omega’s ear, his whole massive body pressing up against Stiles’. Derek’s hard, massive cock is pressed right into Stiles’ ass and it feels brutal and dangerous and so good. Stiles feels all the air leaving his lungs and his whole body relaxes in the most preposterous way under the influence of Derek’s solid form, Derek’s scent. 

“What is your problem?” Derek grates out. “Why do you keep doing this? You are so fucking self-destructive. Do you know how much this hurts me? What happened to you to make you this way?” 

Stiles feels the hot tears he’s been holding back for what seems like a lifetime, the ones he’s kept carefully tamped down deep under layers of protective habits, anger, and self-isolation since Derek first announced his engagement, first basically told Stiles he was leaving him, leaving them for another omega all those years ago threatening to finally emerge. He swallows roughly.

“You.” He chokes out. “You have always been my problem.” 

He grinds his ass back desperately, wanting more friction, wanting to feel Derek against him. The alpha lets out a harsh breath in response. 

“Don’t move.” Derek growls low in Stiles’ ear and a shiver of pure lust shoots up the omega’s spine as Derek’s solid hips cement his own in place. 

A noise like a whine, shameful in both it’s honesty and it’s intensity escapes Stiles’ lips, and he presses his eyes closed tightly. He feels completely on edge, not himself in any sane reality, and yet more at home, more in his own skin, actually inwardly acknowledging his own needs for the first time since he was kid sneaking into Derek’s bed. All he knows at this moment is he needs Derek like he’s always needed Derek but has been too terrified to admit. He feels himself growing still and pliant against Derek’s demanding cock. For a second there is only the sound of his ragged breathing. 

Then in the darkness behind his eyes, Stiles’ feel the rough, wet sensation of Derek’s tongue swiping across the sensitive bite mark on his neck. Stiles lets out a rough sob at the delicious feeling Derek’s mouth is causing all over his body. He stills himself, wanting to obey, wanting to be good, craving Derek’s approval, his touch. 

“That’s my good boy.” Derek purrs into Stiles ear, his massive hands moving the Stiles’ hips. They feel so good there, so safe, like an anchor. 

The alpha’s distinct unmistakable scent is everywhere and Stiles is lost to it. Derek’s scent- the first alpha scent he’d ever memorized, ever gotten close with. With it comes a flood of memories and feelings. The best parts of Stiles’ life have been in proximity to that scent. The joy, the laughter, everything that has made Stiles who he is today. Along with the flashes of events, comes the shame, the desperation of wanting, needing what he knows was never offered. The flood of loneliness, of abandonment. Here, with Derek lovingly worshiping Stiles’ skin, Stiles wants to beg, wants to plead. He’ll be anything, accept anything if Derek will only keep him safe, keep him anchored to the world. It is shameful. Terrifying. 

Derek’s large hand comes forwards to cup Stiles’ aching erection, feeling it all over. Stiles actually keens at the feeling.

“So needy.” He whispers, his voice thick. “How long have you been like this?”

“Long enough.” Stiles gasps out, bucking unconsciously into Derek’s hand 

Derek picks him up and pushes him on his bed. The alpha towers over him, beautiful in a raw, carnal way. Stiles whole body cries out at the loss of Derek’s touch. 

“Take your clothes off.” Derek says.

Stiles has his shirt off and his pants follow almost immediately. He’s stretched out on the bed awkwardly, sitting up on his elbows, very aware of Derek’s eyes on his near naked skin. The alpha isn’t even blinking, he’s just watching him. Stiles is down to his boxers, the outline of his swollen cock clearly visible under the thin fabric. 

“All of them.” Derek orders. 

Stiles pulls off the boxers, until he’s bare under the alpha’s gaze. Derek leans over then, still fully dressed and puts his strong warm hands on the inside of Stiles’ thins, pulling them apart, leaving him completely exposed. Stiles tilts his head back and closes his eyes. His whole body is aching for Derek and it’s all too much. 

“Look at me.” Derek orders softly. “Stiles. Look at me.” 

Stiles opens his eyes and meets Derek’s eyes. The alpha holds Stiles’ gaze for a moment, just looking in his face, petting his inner thighs, before he turns his attention down to Stiles’ glistening hole. 

“Look at you.” Derek murmurs, reaching out to rub his broad thumb over Stiles’ hole. Stiles feels himself twitch in response against the alien touch. “So wet for me.” Derek takes his thumb, wet from Stiles slick and sucks on it. The sight of his lips is positively pornographic and Stiles feels himself shaking. 

Thankfully, Derek’s hands return to his body. One of his broad hands spans Stiles’ abdomen, rising up and down with the omega’s ragged breathing. Derek slides one finger inside him easily and Stiles moans, loving the feeling of some part of Derek inside of him, touching him like this. It isn’t enough though, he needs more. 

“Derek...” He gasps out. 

“So open for me.” Derek murmurs, slowly fucking him. It’s the most exquisite torture. “You need this?” Stiles only moans again in response. Unsatisfied, Derek looks back up at him. “Stiles,” He says. “You need this?” 

“Goddamnit, yes.” Stiles gasps out, feeling himself buck up against Derek’s hand. 

“How much?” He asks, continuing to work Stiles’ slowly. 

“Derek,” Stiles whines, feeling his hips working, his legs splayed open obscenely. 

“Tell me what you need, Stiles.” Derek prompts. 

“More.” Stiles gasps out. “I need more. Please.” 

Derek shoves two fingers inside him now, and it’s rough and hard and amazing and still not enough. Stiles lets out a high keening noise, his eyes open, shocked at how good his body can feel.

“I know what you need.” Derek sounds pleased with himself. “Look at you. Riding my fingers so good for me. So beautiful. You’re so good.” 

Stiles feels his eyes close again and all of a sudden Derek is on top of him, kissing him, licking his mouth open gently, savoring him, holding him close like a lover, his fingers still inside of him. The alpha’s weight feels incredible and safe and right on top of him and all Stiles can do is burry his face in Derek’s neck.

“Derek,” he moans. “Derek...” 

“Stiles.” Derek whispers in his ear in between kisses. “What do you need? Tell me what you need?” 

“Inside me.” Stiles chokes out. “Please, Derek? Please?” 

The alpha growls in response and Stiles feels himself being flipped over, his legs wrenched apart. Just like that Derek sinks inside and Stiles lets out a wail at the feeling. He’d been so empty, he’d needed this so much. Derek’s body is close, laying over his, trapping him in the most wonderful, safe way as he ruts into him harshly. Derek’s hand is on Stiles neck, his finger digging into the bite mark. 

“I’ve got you.” Derek whispers. “I’m right here. I know what you need.” 

Stiles moans and humps up to meet Derek’s cock. He can’t get close enough, he’s so hungry for it. Nothing feels better than this. He is never more complete or more at peace than this. 

“You going to come for me?” Derek whispers, speeding up his thrusts, his hips going with bruising force. “You going to come all over my cock like a good boy?” 

Stiles can’t help himself. He feels his whole body go tense at Derek words and he spasms against the alpha, helpless and lost, grabbing Derek’s hand tightly. Not even a moment later Derek sinks his teeth into his neck roughly and presses into him with a death grip, filling him perfectly.


	46. Need

Well, that was useless. And terrible. And perfect. And awful. And perfect. And thoughtless. And unsustainable. 

Stiles is laying against Derek’s chest, naked and wrecked, his face cocooned in some indeterminate part of the alpha’s body. Derek’s head is propped up somewhere above him, and the alpha is running his fingers soothingly through Stiles’ hair, the way he used to when they were kids. They are quiet, not speaking, but also no longer at war. Something has calmed in Stiles. He feels stronger somehow, his head clearer, no longer a twisted fog of anger and frustration. All that remains, along with the facts of the situation is a deep and unignorable sadness.

“Derek,” Stiles says, his voice soft and clear. It’s like they’re kids staying up past their bedtimes again, sharing earnest and heartfelt secrets. “You know I love you, right?” 

Derek makes a soft noise. “Of course, Stiles.” He says. “I love you too.” 

Stiles is silent for a moment. This is a conversation they’ve had before, possibly more than once, as kids when he’d been excited about their future, back when Derek and he had sworn to be each other’s best pals for life. I love you. Repetitive. A reflex. Mundane. The type of thing you say to your mother before you leave the house. 

He swallows. When he speaks again, his voice is thick, honest. A confession that shouldn’t be any kind of secret at all. “I hate hurting you.” He says, miserable. “I hate it. And I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Derek’s thumb brushes over his ear in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay.” He says.

“It’s not.” Stiles says, sitting up a little to look at Derek. “It’s not.” He doesn’t know the right words. He is at a loss, but this needs to be said, and so he needs to learn how to do it. And it can no longer wait. “I don’t know how to stop doing it.” He says. “I just... I don’t know.” He looks over Derek’s face carefully, searching for a hint of understanding, of comprehension. “I wish to God I knew how to act like everything is okay between us- I do. Because I know you want that and I want you to have everything you want. I always have.” 

Derek reaches up and cups his face tenderly, running his broad thumb down the side of Stiles’ cheek and over his lip, looking concern at the intensity in Stiles’ voice.

“I don’t know how to do this.” Stiles repeats again. “And I’m sorry, Derek, I really am.” He swallows again, trying desperately to reign in his emotions. Derek needs to hear this, deserves to hear the truth from him, and if Stiles gives into his tears, he’ll never get it out. 

“Stiles,” Derek says softly. 

Stiles closes his eyes and opens his mouth. “I wish I knew how to do this. But I can’t. I’m not confused and I’m not angry and I’m not... trying to run.” Stiles bites his lip, shaking his head. “I just... I’m trying to tell you the truth.” 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice has taken on a new tone now. He’s more alert, concerned, not just comforting. “You can always tell me the truth. You know that.” 

“I know.” Stiles says, taking a shuddering breath. 

“Then what is it?” Derek asks, looking at him closely. “What are you trying to say?” 

Stiles opens his eyes. “I’m saying I love you.” He says. “I love you and I want a divorce.” 

“What?” Derek asks. 

“You promised you would get the laws repealed and I believe one day you will make good on that promise.” Stiles says quickly. “But I can’t be here in the meantime.” He says. “It’s killing me, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Derek rolls up, shifting Stiles off of him in the process and they both sit up now, facing each other. Derek looks dumbfounded, as if he can’t quite process what Stiles is saying. 

“You have a life here.” Stiles continues. “A good one. A great one. You’ve done amazing things. I just... I can’t be part of it. Not like this.” 

“Stiles,” Derek says. “You can’t just leave. I know you’re scared-“ 

“I’m not.” Stiles says, soft but sure. “I’m really not. I am at peace about this. I know you’re scared for me. I know.” Stiles reaches up and cups Derek’s face, making the alpha look at him. “Derek, please. You said you would always take care of me, that you would always keep me safe. I am telling you I can’t do this. Please, listen to me.” He stares up at his best friend. “Give me what I need.” 

Derek’s hand raises up to crush Stiles’ to his face. “That is all I’ve ever wanted.” He says and he looks devastated. 

“I know.” Stiles says. “I know. And you have been so good to me. So please. Let me go.” 

Derek’s hand drops and he stares at Stiles as if the omega is disintegrating before his eyes. “This is what you want?” He asks and his voice sounds haunted. 

“Yes.” Stiles says. 

Derek stands up silently and walks out the door. 

“Derek!” Stiles calls after him, stricken. The alpha doesn’t turn around.


	47. After

It is like there has been a murder in the house. No one will speak of it, but the stench of death and decay linger in the air. The omega’s name is like a curse word, something shameful and poisonous to polite company. The others are careful around Derek, but he is more careful around them. He is the alpha. The family, the company, life in general will not recover if he does not recover. But Derek doesn’t know how to do that, doesn’t how to go about making himself whole again, so he just decides he is. There is no getting better, there is only being better. Life goes on, beautiful and neat and choreographed like something out of full color spread in a luxury lifestyle magazine. A life of domestic bliss. Of board games and curated wine. Of throw pillows and fruit of the month subscriptions. A life where Stiles never existed, where the omega had never been born. A life where Derek has everything and he has lost nothing. A life where Derek is nothing.

Call it survival. Call it willful ignorance. Call it really good acting. Call it whatever the fuck you will- Derek is done trying to understand it. The simple truth is if you’re smiling, you’re not crying. If you’re laughing, you can’t hear your own inner fears. If you’re planning expansions and meeting deadlines you aren’t reliving the past. If you keep a meticulous schedule and block out every minute of every day in writing and then tell your personal assistant make you stick to it, you can’t give into your instincts. The omega was right. Is right. Derek has a family, has a life. It’s his heart that is gone and it turns out you don’t need one to get through the day anyways.

Still, he talks to Stiles in his head, almost like some kind of compulsive masochistic religious ritual, equally comforting and torturous. A thousand fruitless questions he already knows the answer to. And he hates the answers so just he keeps asking.

_How could you leave me when I believed you loved me the way I did? What about me is so unworthy of you that you can’t even have me in your life? Am I such a bad mate, a bad protector, a bad provider that you couldn’t stay? I know you don’t love me, Stiles, the way I love you, but if you could give me a chance I could be so good, I would love you in any way you needed._

Silently, internally Derek oscillates between anger and depression, indignation and the darkest, deepest self-loathing.

_You said you loved me. You stood before my family and our community and promised to trust me. Is this what you call trust? You didn’t even give me a chance. You didn’t give our marriage a chance. You hate me. You must hate me. Only someone who harbored a deep, burning malicious hatred could put someone through what you’re putting me through. And I hate you too. I hate you for not staying when you know you’re mine. I hate you for leaving me ten years ago. I hate you for letting him even look at you. I hate you for your absence, your silence. For the fact that you can apparently live without me._

Derek closes his eyes.

_Why can’t you see what you do to me?_

It is strange, Derek sometimes thinks, how your family, the ones who know you the most, the ones who claim to love you can see you every day and not realize you’re already dead, not see the the beautiful home they share is nothing more than a grave. Maybe he’s not longer bleeding internally, but that’s only because the dead don’t bleed.

Only Cambria mentions Stiles and only once while they’re alone.

“It’s weird that Uncle Stiles left.” She said seemingly randomly one morning. She had looked up at Derek then, her eyes bright. “It’s weird you let him leave. It doesn’t seem very alpha of you.”

“Being an alpha isn’t about telling people what to do.” Derek had said softly, squatting next to her. “It’s about loving people.”

“I don’t get it.” Cambria had cocked her head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “How was letting Uncle Stiles leave like that loving him? You always tell me that people who love each other stick with each other so they don’t get lost.”

“Uncle Stiles isn’t lost.” Derek had smiled gently.

Cambria had peered up at him suspiciously. “Remember that time you found that baby outside in the paddock? We were riding together.”

“Sure.” Derek said, recalling the day one of his employee’s sons had wandered away from his parents when the mother had come to visit the father at work on Derek’s lands.

“And he was crying for his mommy and when we found his mommy she was crying for him too?” Carmbria folds her arms contemptuously.

“Yes,” Derek nods. “I remember.”

“The baby smelled the way Uncle Stiles smells.” Cambria states. “All the time.”

“Uncle Stiles is a grownup.” Derek tells her, kissing her on the forehead. “He’s just fine.”

“Did you get the bad people to stop trying to take Uncle Stiles away?” She asks.

“Not yet.” Derek says. “But we’re really close. It’ll happen soon. We’re almost there.”

Cambria looks up at him defiantly, making Derek feel about two feet tall in the face of this baby alpha, so fierce and protective, just like his mother and sisters.

“You said you weren’t going to let anything happen to him.” She points out obstinately.

Derek pulls his daughter in close and hugs her. “Nothing is going to happen to Uncle Stiles, honey.” He says. “I promise.”

“How do you know?” She asks.

Derek sighs, it’s out before he can even stop himself. “I just do.” He says.

Cambria is quiet for a moment and Derek thinks he’s finally satisfied the little girl’s fears. Then she says, “I don’t think you do.” She pulls away a little and looks up at him. “You’re starting to smell like that too.”

Derek is not in the habit of lying to his daughter, and they are close to a breakthrough. Derek can feel it. He spends all of his spare time flying out to DC on the family jet now, sitting in hushed meetings with senators, with their staff, with lobbyists and donors, his mother and Laura at his side. Hawthorne has come through. Through a series of covert emails through his staff, the young senator turned the Hales on to a silent yet powerful faction of conservatives who secretly have their own reasons for disliking the new laws.

“Hale, there is no doubt that the fiscal facts of the situation are in you favor.” The senior senator from Florida, Jessup Gardner, sits in front of Derek and Laura in a private room in the back of an esteemed alpha club in DC. “These omega protection laws cost a shitton of money, not to mention I consider it a huge act of government overreach.” The older alpha takes a sip of Bourbon thoughtfully. “I ran on a platform of small government. This is not the kind of conservative I am.”

“You know taxes will only increase for the job creators because of a set of laws that is essentially social engineering at its worst.” Laura says, eyeing Derek across her chair. “This is not a pro-business plan, Senator.”

“I am well aware of that.” The senator looks troubled. “And I am not the only one. Many of us good old boys are concerned about what these laws will do to the economy.”

“Then support the repeal.” Derek sighs, glaring at his glass. “I thought you were a Goddamn libertarian.”

“I’m going to shoot straight with you, son.” The senator says. “I don’t like big government and I don’t like these laws. They go against everything I’ve staked my political career on. However, the public support just isn’t there. My constituents, my base are social conservatives, good hard working family types. Small towns, blue collar. They don’t cotton much to the idea of omega liberation and I will loose my seat if I publicly back a repeal right now. I know it and so do the others.” He leans forwards. “Find a way to get public opinion on your side, and you’ll get the votes your mother needs for the repeal. Right now though with the social climate the way it is...” He shrugs, “Too risky. No senator in his right mind would touch that right now.”

“The public like winners, senator.” Derek says intensely. “If you market this right, it won’t matter what the bill is, all that will matter is you won. You got what you want.”

“Quite frankly I’m surprised you’re so adamant about this, Hale.” Gardner takes an easy sip of his drink. “You’ve always struck me as the most reasonable of your family.”

“I intend to have these laws repealed, Senator.” Derek says, his voice low. “Now, you can either stand with me and be on the right side of history or you can be a chickenshit slave to public opinion. Either way you mark my words- the laws will be repealed, even if I have to take the good old boy network down senator by senator.”

The senator’s eyes narrow. “You have a vicious bark for such a young pup, Hale. I wouldn’t go writing checks you can’t cash.”

“My mother is the one with skills in diplomacy.” Derek says, his eyes cold. “I’m just a simple businessman who isn’t used to being told no.” He leans forwards. “And let me tell you alpha to alpha, I will get this done, one way or another. You think about that.” He stands up, Laura following suit. “I’ll be in touch.”


	48. The Single Omega

Being an omega means that sex and love and power and control and survival are all wound tightly together in every invisible aspect of how you live your life, how you think about yourself, and how you react towards others. It’s in your blood and in your dreams, it is what and how you eat, what you say, the things you call yourself. It is molding your goals, your ambitions, it is what you notice on the streets around you, and what gets stuck in your head. It takes a village, a world, ten million tiny subliminal messages repeated over a lifetime to make the omega adult. The end product is nothing if not a paradox. Beautiful to behold, ugly to consider, leader of the family and yet submissive to society, free from the pack mentality of the alphas, but enslaved to the idea of the prince charming. Strong enough to work without rest or complaint, fragile enough to need validation and protection. The omega is both martyr and maternal madonna, insatiable whore, and designated sex object. Nothing can motivate an alpha faster to action than an omega, and yet she is powerless to the alpha-centric ideals, the tide of alpha dictated history. She is everything to all people, and yet she can claim nothing for herself without being branded by some label that she does not want. This is the modern omega- the victim warrior. A slave to what she’s been taught should be her aspirations. 

Let’s talk about gender roles. Let’s talk about privilege. Could you live how she lives? Without going crazy? In the end, you’d end up a bitch or as somebody else’s bitch.

Stiles doesn’t know how to do it anymore, doesn’t think he ever knew how. It’s an ugly truth that nobody wants to talk about, nobody even wants to admit aloud: there are no single omegas, only unclaimed property. Sure, they educate omegas now, some even have jobs, but when it comes down to what’s still important, all omegas are just sitting in one big lost and found, waiting for some alpha to choose them. 

Maybe marriage was never about love and Stiles just didn’t get that, didn’t understand the way it worked. All he knows is he can’t keep living like this, can’t keep thinking in the back of his mind that Derek will realize his mistake, will take the last ten years back and claim Stiles. Fuck- they got married and it still wasn’t right. Stiles is beginning to think he’ll never get the answers he wants because it’s the question that was wrong to begin with. It could be this isn’t about Derek or Warren. It could be Ryanne is not the enemy. Stiles is his own enemy. It is his love for Derek that needs to be purged from himself, not Ryanne that needs to leave Derek.

He will never be what Derek wants, so he has to stop wanting Derek. 

After he’d left Derek’s house, he’d gone to Warren. He’d shown up on the senator’s door with one pathetic gym bag and it’d been easier than he’d thought it would be because he’d had no other place to go. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He’d said the moment the senator had ushered him inside. “I just... I need someplace to be.” 

“Of course,” Warren had said with a bright smile. “You know you’re always welcome here.” 

“Look,” Stiles had held up a hand. “I’m not very... political. I’ve stayed out of it my entire adult life. And I can probably guess on where you stand on these.... laws, but I’ve got to tell you, from where I’m standing, what I do from here on out is try to get them repealed. I can’t do anything, I can’t move on with my life until they’re gone.” He’d looked up at Warren’s kind eyes. “I don’t expect you to help me, but if this is a problem for you, I’ll go.”

“Where would you go?” Warren’s face had softened and he’d taken a step towards Stiles. “Of course you belong here.” 

Stiles had taken a step away instinctively, “No.” He’d said. “In the eyes of the law I belong back there.” He’d motioned over his shoulder to the door. “With my... with my husband. Legally, right now, that’s where I belong. And I can’t...” Stiles swallowed and looked down. “I can’t be there. So things have to change. Not just for me, either. For everyone. But, I just...” He closed his eyes. “I can’t go back.” 

“Stiles,” Warren’s voice had been pure alpha. “You will never have to go back to the Hales, ever. I am not your enemy, not in this, not in anything.” He’d looked down kindly at Stiles. “I offered to help Derek repeal the laws. I will do anything in my power. Didn’t he tell you?” 

Stiles bit back the long-held automatic habit of defending Derek. “No.” He is all he said.

“Well, he didn’t seem all that keen to move on it.” Warren said. “Alphas like Derek pretend to be progressive in the eyes of the public, but deep down they and their companies benefit from things staying the way they’ve always been. You can’t blame him, really. He has a wife and child. I’m sure he wants to keep them in the lives they’re used to.” 

Stiles had taken a breath. “Derek has choices to make. But so do I.” Even then, even saying the words, Stiles had felt a fierce longing for the alpha well up inside of him. Part of himself wanted to desperately turn around, run back to the cab, and throw himself at Derek’s door, to beg and plead until he’d preyed upon Derek’s sympathies enough that the alpha would touch him, gentle him, and allow him to fall asleep in his arms. The need he felt was shameful and humiliating and Stiles hadn’t known how he’d get through it. But Derek’s life wasn’t about Stiles and Stiles’ life had to stop being about Derek. 

“I need a shower.” He’d said. 

After that Stiles started staying in Warren’s guest room. Thankfully, it isn’t near any of the other bedrooms on the property, and Warren doesn’t try to get too close after that first night. It’s not that Stiles doesn’t trust Warren, it’s just that being without Derek is being in a state of constant physical discomfort, not unlike having chronic cramps, or being rabidly hungry, and it makes Stiles tired and edgy. He doesn’t want to be too close to anyone. He just wants to be sedated. Stiles tries to reorder his world and reorder his thoughts. He starts talking to omegas on the internet, other single omegas in hiding, married omegas, first wives with omega children who don’t want their sons and daughters to grow up like this, second and third wives who don’t feel at home in their own beds. Stiles begins collecting stories, begins paying attention to the news. In all the omegas he talks to, there is one overwhelming thread of fear that binds them all together in one united narrative: fear. Fear of rejection, fear of being food or housing insecure, fear of losing their places or their children’s places in their communities, fear that as bad as things are now, they could always get worse. Warren travels a lot for both business and pleasure. Stiles begins to fly with him, meeting with omegas everywhere they go. They sit in church basements, empty public school classrooms after hours, they talk together, children and babies playing at their feet. Stiles meets with young, poor omegas, old, wealthy omegas. He sits with them and he listens. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with all of the information he’s gathered, but he knows he needs to do something. Somebody has to do something. 

Then week day, Warren and Stiles are staying with Warren’s staff in a DC hotel, and Stiles goes out for a walk after the sun has set. He doesn't come back.


	49. Ain't about the Money (It's about the Power)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_P8uOufdE6M

Power. Female alphas are widely considered to be the most powerful and power-hungry of the primary/secondary gender combinations. Male alphas are content with mates and stable homes- happy to be the kings of their own castles. For the female alpha power in her own domain is all but a given; she is not happy until she can reshape the world in her own image. In the world of liberal politics there is no more powerful name than that of Hale. Lydia grew up with Derek so of course she feels an emotional sort of pack loyalty towards him, but she is also not about to sell herself short. There is no way she would have hitched her wagon to his had she not been 100% sure he could stand up and deliver on his name. The game for them has always been on a whole different level. Lydia and Derek are legacies- they were born wealthy with brand surnames, born into circumstances that would have labeled them successes by anyone else’s standards simply by virtue of who their parents are. This has never been enough for Lydia. She will not be just another heiress, famous for being famous. This was never enough for Derek, Laura, or Cora either. The three siblings could have floated through life on their good looks and last name, but instead all three were true alphas in their own rights. They had not distanced themselves from the world, disappearing into a drug-fueled haze of night clubs and celebrities, but had built businesses, built political alliances, tried to affect change. They were Hales- not only in name but also in deed.

However, there is one thing that is abundantly clear to Lydia: an alpha is only as good as his omega. And in this, Derek, the dumb handsome animal, has pretty much rendered himself useless. Lydia is done playing nice. She is done watching the man she loves as a boss and a friend throw his life away for a lazy, amoral pretty boy excuse for a mate. According to Lydia’s contacts in the Hawthorne camp, Stiles may actually mean to stay out of Derek’s life for good this time, may actually be moving on to another alpha. This is unacceptable and Lydia is not going to stand by and watch another alpha snatch up Asset Number One out from under Derek’s idiot nose, not when Lydia knows with all of her female alpha intuition that with Stiles by his side Derek could do anything. With Stiles by his side, the Hales could rule the world.

After all, for them, it not about the money. It’s about the power. And that’s something Ryanne has never understood.

Lydia pulls up to the house, knowing Derek is in DC with his sisters and Cambria is at school. She opens the front door with her own key and move through the house soundlessly. She finds Ryanne airing out the bedroom where Stiles was previously staying.

“You stupid bitch.” Lydia says, her voice echoing around the now nearly empty room. “I bet you think you’ve won, don’t you?”

Ryanne doesn’t even blink. He just holds up his wedding ring finger, his huge rock glinting in the sunlight. “I won a long time ago.” He says. “Stiles knows that. You should too.”

“Oh you do not even want to get me started on the things I know.” Lydia hisses viciously, stepping further into the room. “The things I know would make your tacky blond dye job turn white.”

Ryanne turns, folding his arms, his eyes take Lydia’s petite form in carefully. “You don’t know anything about me. About my marriage.”

“Don’t I?” Lydia reaches into the pocket of her skirt suit and holds up an handwritten note. “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I gave this back to Derek? A sort of return to sender thing, seeing as it never reached its intended destination.”

Ryanne’s baby blue eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why did I find this stuck in your wallet, Ryanne?” Lydia asks. She looks down at the note. “I’m guessing this is from Derek’s wedding night, the night we had to leave and go to the other land so abruptly because of the flooding. Can’t say I blame you, really. It must be tough knowing your husband would rather spend the rest of his life fighting tooth and nail with Stiles than living in peace with you. But, I wonder what Derek would think if he knew the truth about you and Stiles?”

“Derek loves me.” Ryanne says emphatically, ignoring Lydia’s threat. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you and Cora and Laura to wrap your heads around this! Derek loves _me_. He married _me_. He chose _me_. Stiles is nothing to him. Get it through your heads.”

“Just because you believe your own bullshit doesn’t mean the rest of us do. And I, for one am done ignoring reality just because the truth is uncomfortable.” Lydia says. “And I’d watch it if I were you because I’m pretty sure Cora and Laura are getting sick of this too.”

Ryanne’s handsome face twists into an ugly snarl. “You can’t do anything to me. You don’t know anything about me.”

Lydia leans forwards, her eyes narrowed, her voice soft and deliberate. “I know everything.” She says. “I know you took the note Derek left for Stiles on their wedding night. And that’s not the only thing I know. I know you told Derek Stiles would never love him before you were even engaged to him. And we both know that’s a lie.”

Ryanne looks taken aback for a moment. He blinks up at Lydia, his face cold and furious.

“Let’s talk about something else we both know, shall we?” Lydia asks, her eye glowing. “I know that you know Derek didn’t just buy Stiles’ engagement recently. He bought it ten years ago. I saw your face when you saw Stiles wearing it at the wedding. You recognized it. You found it ten years ago, didn’t you?”

Ryanne’s pinched face is all the answer Lydia needs. “Derek and I have a family.” Ryanne spits out. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything.” Lydia answers. “But you- you’re going to come clean to Derek. You’re going to tell him everything, or I will.” Lydia turns around and walks out, her Valentino heels clicking on the wooden floors.


	50. The Kingmakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Laura recaps the situation for those of you who are as muddled as I am, and Talia gives the kind of 'Come to Jesus' speech my mother LOVES to lay on me.

Laura, Boyd, and Derek spend most of their time these weeks holed up in a luxury penthouse with stacks of legal papers and six TVs all blaring on different news networks in one of DC's most secure hotels, with Lydia flitting in and out as needed. All in all, Laura thinks it's a good idea to get Derek away from his estate, away from the bedroom where the alpha had his last encounter with Stiles, away from the memories, the smells, and away from Ryanne. The covert initiative she and Derek have been waging on their mother's behalf has also been good, she thinks. Gives Derek something to think about other than Senator Hawthorne, something to do other than pace and sulk and silently stew in his own alpha misery. It gives Derek purpose, an enemy other than the senator Laura knows is housing Derek's estranged best friend at the moment, makes him feel like he's doing something, keeping his promises. As much as it pains her, she thinks the time apart from Cambria may be an okay thing for Derek as well. Laura's young niece doesn't need to be exposed to this angry, vulnerable version of Derek, doesn't need to smell the despair and frustrated helplessness that pours off her brother like a seeping, creeping fume whenever she gets close to him. One day, Laura thinks, after the laws are repealed and there is no one left to fight, Derek will begin to heal, but not now, not when his wounds are so raw and new, the memory of Stiles once again leaving still so fresh.

Laura thinks her brother has probably loved Stiles his whole life and is only now beginning to translate his feelings into words and sentences in his own head. Stiles was always the more intuitive, more observant, more paranoid of the pair. The slender omega could get a read on a room, gauge the situation, and predict an likely outcome before her brother would even realize a situation required assessment at all. It made sense to Laura that Stiles would err on the side of cynicism and self-preservation when it came to his personal life- after all, omegas had little room for error, and balancing social stability with any kind of independence is not easy for an omega. Stiles is a practical, down to earth omega, and he would have considered the catty games of social niceties and one-uppmanship played by society omegas such as Ryanne beneath him. Stiles had refused to stoop to fighting for Derek, and the alpha had been oblivious to the invisible mating battle being waged around him all together. At the time, Laura had stayed out of it. Although young and immature, Derek was an adult alpha and he had every right to marry whomever he saw fit. She'd honestly thought the marriage with Ryanne wouldn't go through at all. Laura, Cora, Lydia, and Talia had all misjudged the situation, figuring something would hit the fan prior to the actual wedding date and Stiles would come back into their lives for good. However, it hadn't happened and here they all were, nearly ten years later with Derek worse for wear, still carrying on with the empty sham of his first marriage whilst simultaneously bleeding from trying to pick up the shattered remains of his second one.

"The whole thing has been and continues to be an unmitigated disaster." Laura tells Talia over the phone while she knows Derek is in the shower. "I honestly don't even know what to do anymore. He's so angry all the time. He either skulks around silent and furious and fuming or he's threatening people." She sighs into the phone. "I know it's none of my business, but I honestly feel like I've failed him somehow." She frowns. "This isn't how it's supposed to be."

"Laura," Talia's voice is sympathetic but firm. "It was never your job or my job to police your brother's personal life. As a parent and an alpha I have to believe I raised intelligent, responsible, moral children who are capable of making the right decisions for yourselves and your dependents."

"The last time you gave me this lecture Derek wound up married to Ryanne." Laura says. "I really don't think this is healthy for him or for Stiles, and quite frankly it's starting to wear on me as well. It's really hard for me to stand back and watch him run himself into the ground like this. He's not the same alpha I grew up with anymore. I really don't think I've seen him truly happy since Stiles left. And Stiles- you saw what a trainwreck he's become at the wedding. He's so stubborn and it's like they regress to teenagers when they're dealing with each other. I think Stiles would rather die miserable than tell Derek what he needs."

"And what is it you think Stiles needs?" Talia asks patiently  
."It's pretty obvious to everyone that Stiles needs Derek to commit to him and only him. You know Derek was never really more than a one omega alpha to begin with and they're both suffering needlessly by trying to do this without each other." Laura says, exasperated. "Alpha omega relationships only work so long as needs are being talked about and met. Otherwise it can effect the whole clan- and make no mistake, this is starting to effect all of us."

"What you are talking about is breaking up my granddaughter's parents' marriage." Talia notes. "I would thank you to think about exactly what you are suggesting as a solution here."

"Derek and Ryanne's marriage is already broken." Laura sighs. "They were so young when they got married and I don't think Derek's heart was ever really in it to begin with. As a divorced omega with a child, Ryanne would be exempt from these laws even if we don't manage to get them overturned and hell- I would pay him alimony to stay out of Derek's life."

"That may be true, Laura, but Derek made his own choices, regardless of how knee-jerk or ill-advised they were, and Derek and only Derek can make choices about what to do now." Talia says. "I don't think you give Derek's alpha instincts enough credit. My son has excellent instincts- how do you think he found Stiles in the first place? If the situation is really as unsustainable as you say, I have to believe that Derek will read the signs and find his way back to his mate. Our instincts do not make mistakes even when we do. Stiles has returned to your brother time and time again over their lives and I have no reason to believe this time will be any different."

"Yeah, well you forget the part where he wouldn't have to keep coming back if he didn't keep leaving!" Laura snaps, frustrated. "I want my brother to be strong again. I want Derek to be able to be the alpha he was meant to be, to be able to carry this family's legacy."

"My beautiful Laura," Talia sounds fond. "My warrior. You and Cora. Both my girls love so hard."

"Derek is too passive." Laura counters sharply. "If my brother cannot put his family back together again and protect his mate, it is because he is weak, not because he's being prudent. He needs to get his head out of his ass and stop moping like a rejected teenager." She purses her lips. “He is an alpha and he is a Hale. The time for civility in this affair has long passed.”

"Patience has never been one of your strongest suits, Laura." Talia laughs.

“Patience has nothing to do with Derek and Stiles’ particular brand of stubborn idiocy.” Laura sniffs.

“Laura I love your brother in a way you will not be able to understand until you have children of your own, but what is at stake here is bigger than one couple.” Talia says sternly. “The people- the citizens fate, privilege, and the tide of history have chosen this family to protect and serve are counting on us to right an egregious wrong perpetrated by the body to which I, and your grandmother before me, have been elected. Now, you know I believe everyone is of equal value, but the fact of the matter is you and your brother and sister and I are in the unique position to actually effect positive change. I have supplied you with an education, social graces, and connections hoping that should times such as these come about you would be ready to do your duty to the general good. You have a lot of fire and a lot of passion, and I couldn’t be more proud of you, but you must keep priorities in mind. The state of Derek’s marriage is a personal tragedy. Our family is called to higher things than just our own petty problems. You know that, Derek knows that, and I believe with all my heart Stiles knows that as well. Stay the course, Laura. Distraction is exactly what the opposition is counting on and I will not give them the satisfaction. My children- all of my children are made of stronger stuff than that, and I believe the whole nation will see that once our cause is vindicated.” She sighs with extreme dignity into Laura’s ear. “Y’all need Jesus.”

“Of course-“ Laura starts, thoroughly rebuked.

“Laura!” Derek nearly pounces on his older sister. Laura turns and looks at him. Derek is shirtless and still damp from the shower, a pair of dark jeans swung low around his hips. His eyes are keen and almost black, his pupils dilated like he’s on some kind of drug. He’s looking around suspiciously, tense as if ready to spring. “Put the phone down!” He snaps. “Do you smell that?”

“Your chosen one is out of the shower.” Laura says to her mother. “I’ve got to go. He looks high by the way.” She hangs up the phone and turns back to Derek. “No, I don’t smell anything. What are you on about?” 

But Derek is halfway out of the suite and roaming down the hall at a good pace. Laura swears under her breath, grabbing a room key and following him. She’s seen him move like this before; gone is the charming, affable businessman, the smooth tycoon, instead Derek has reverted back to some ancient hunter, the dangerous and deadly roots of their kind. He is completely focused, tracking some scent that Laura can’t even catch with a marked intensity. He moves silently and silkily down the halls of the almost deserted hotel, his hand clenched into fists at his side, his face growing darker and darker. By the time Derek slows Laura thinks they must be at the opposite end of the hotel, and her brother looks more animal or monster than man. Derek stops dead before the entrance to another set of private rooms that looks like their own, as if led there in a dream. Laura can hear some great commotion going on behind the doors, the nightmare sounds of feral cries and violence. A beefy security guard stands before the door, looking around nervously. Derek pauses only for half a second before pushing his way past the security guard, into the inner rooms of the suite. 

“Hey! You can’t go in there!” He calls out a moment too late. 

Laura ignores him as well and slips in after Derek. It must be nearly three in the morning now, but the scene the Hale siblings enter is complete bedlam. They arrive just in time to see Senator Warren Hawthorne being thrown bodily from some indeterminate part of the room, blood pouring onto his designer whit button down from his nose. Laura takes in the numerous deep scratches gouged up and down the senator’s arms. There as some pitiful animal noises coming from one side of the room, and another alpha security guard is trying his best to avoid the fray. Over to one side, an omega, obviously a doctor stands by hesitantly, his hair a mess, a deeply concerned expression on his face. Laura looks over to her brother. Derek is sniffing the air, his entire body dangerous tense, the dark, carnal look on his face positively deadly. 

“What the hell is going on here?” She demands. 

“What are you doing here?” The young senator asks angrily. Then he turns and gets a good look at Derek. “Oh fuck-“ 

He almost doesn’t get a chance to finish speaking. Derek has Hawthorne hauled up by the lapels and is slamming the other alpha into a wall, a deep ferocious growl emanating from his chest. 

“What the hell have you done to him?” Derek is snarling into Hawthorne’s bloody face. “I’ll kill you!" One massive hand comes up to throttle the senator, but Laura sees it coming.

“Derek!” She yells out in her alpha voice, rushing to her brother’s side and clawing him off of the other alpha. 

“I didn’t do anything to him!” Hawthorne yells back.

“It’s true!” The omega doctor is up and next to them now, inserting himself bravely between the three alphas. 

“Then why does he smell like that?” Derek roars, fury flashing in his eyes. 

“Derek- Mr. Hale!” The omega doctor’s voice is calm, but firm. “He was attacked. Stiles went out tonight to meet with some people and the police caught him at the wrong time. They thought he was a runaway- that he was on run from his alpha. They beat him pretty severely before anyone could get to him. Some kid caught the whole thing on his cell phone.” 

“Oh my god...” Laura raises her hand to her mouth in horror. She looks over to the corner of the room where an hunched, ragged thing, bloody and nearly unrecognizable is sitting in the corner, making piteous animal noises.

“We got to the scene as quickly as we could, but he’s... he’s pretty bad.” Hawthorne looks stricken. 

Derek heads in the direction of Stiles immediately, but the doctor catches him by the arm. “Wait!” The doctor warns. “Don’t get near him!” 

“The hell with that!” Derek snaps, yanking his arm away. 

“He’s feral.” The doctor says. “He’ll attack you. He doesn’t know what’s going on. We’ve been trying to subdue him all night, but he’s enormously violent.” 

Laura balks. Feral. It is uncommon but not unheard of for alphas to go feral in times of enormous stress, but it’s incredibly rare for that to happen with omegas. Omegas are generally a protected class, kept safe inside homes or institutionalized. She personally has never seen a feral omega. The idea is heartbreaking. 

“He needs help.” Laura says, her eyes wide. “He obviously needs medical attention.” 

“We’ve been trying.” The doctor runs his fingers through his hair, looking stressed. “He won’t calm. He won’t be gentled for anything.” The doctor looks over to Hawthorne. “He won’t even respond to his alpha. The only way I know to bring an omega out of a feral episode is through his alpha and Stiles just won’t respond.” 

Derek stares murderously at Hawthorne. “That’s because that’s not his alpha.” He says. “I am.” 

The doctor actually does a double take. “You?” He looks like he’s just swallowed his tongue. 

“What are you two even doing here?” Hawthorne finally spits. 

“I expect we’re here for the same reason you are.” Laura says. “We’re here on senate business. Derek smelled Stiles in distress and tracked him back here.” 

“You’re not this omega’s alpha?” The doctor asks the senator. 

“Of course I am!” Hawthorne says angrily. 

“His acknowledged alpha?” The doctor asks again. 

“What does that even mean?” Hawthorne throws up his hand. 

“He’s my wife.” Derek tells the doctor. “We’ve been best friends since childhood and we recently got married. That bite on his neck- that’s mine.”

“Then what was he doing here with another alpha." The doctor looks confused. 

“It’s complicated.” Derek says. “He left a few weeks ago.” 

“And that’s the last time you saw him?” The doctor asks.

“Yes.” Derek says, looking towards Stiles longingly. “Please, I need to be with him.” 

“That would explain quite a bit.” The doctor says quietly, more to himself. 

“What do you mean?” Laura asks. 

“Bond Separation Syndrome.” The doctor says. “If you two have had a deeply involved relationship since childhood it’s possible your recent mating could has instigated a bond. Bonded couples that are separated for a length of time can go into BSS as a sort of survival reflex. Omegas with BSS are much more likely to go feral.” He looks over to Derek carefully. “You’re not looking so well yourself.” 

“Bond Separation Syndrome is a myth.” Hawthorne says adamantly. 

“I always thought so too.” Laura admits.

“It’s rare enough to be considered a myth by the general population.” The doctor says. “But the truth is the couples who develop biological bonds like these are rarely separated enough for BSS to ever be an issue.” The doctor sighs. “If you all will excuse us, I think we better see what you can do for your wife.” He turns to Derek. 

“I won’t leave him.” Hawthorne says, baring his teeth. 

“Oh I think you will.” Laura says, pulling herself up. “Come on.” She grabs Hawthorne’s shoulder and turns to herd him out of the room. 

“But-“ Hawthorne starts.

“There’s nothing you can do for him right now.” Laura says. “If you care about him, you’ll let it go for now.”


	51. All My Life (I Have Been Falling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song in Sitles' head:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWz9_yKhASA

_“How long were we apart? A month? A week? A day?”_

The cloying, haunting lyrics of a song someone who was like a mother to him favored when he was small float through the back of his head. The words meaningless, but the desolate, pining notes make connections in him where words fail.

Fear. Pain. The blackest kind of hopelessness. Even the simplest words are meaningless to him. The language of the lucid is lost to him. But this doesn’t matter because there is no comprehending something like this, by now he is far past strategy. There is only breathing through the pain. There is only fighting away others who would hurt him more. There is only getting through this moment. And then the next one.

He doesn’t know where he is or how he ended up like this. All he knows is he’s scared and he hurts. And his mate is not here. He has been left to fend for himself into the endless brutality of the world. As he was before his mate, so he is now that his mate has gone. Misery measured in two distinct mirrored portions of his life, and the latter stretches in front of him in one endless hell.

_“My heart... My heart belongs to someone else...”_

His heart. The person who pumps blood through his veins and breathes life into his being has left him here to die in the hands of cruel strangers, alone like an animal. He wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t beautiful enough, just wasn’t enough to make his mate stay. His mate had demanded everything from him, demanded he give up who he is and what he is, and he had refused. His mate had punished him by leaving him and allowing the act of living as an omega without his mate to finish him off. Should he have given in and given up everything? He wishes his mate had been merciful enough to kill him, himself before he left.

_“I am in love, hopelessly in love. And I am loved hopelessly in turn...”_

There are loud voices and terrifying alien scents and some strange alpha keeps trying to touch him. There is another omega here as well who keeps trying to coax him into a false sense of security through soft words. He hurts too much to take chances. The last strangers almost killed him.

He wants his mate the way he would want breath if he was being held underwater. He is weak. He is shamed by his honest, desperate need for one who does not need him. Doesn’t his mate know how he needs him, close enough to touch whenever he feels afraid or unsure? Doesn’t he know how he cries for him?

_“You are so beautiful... as I remember every night... clear and beautiful... every night, every day, every part of you...”_

Him. The voices and the scents in the room change and he is there. Solid and shining and sure as the night. He is there, close enough to smell, close enough to touch. No. He must not. His mate is here but he must not go to him. Then there are voices, incomprehensible, a jumble of noise.

“What do I do?” His mate asks. “How can I... Will he let me get close to him?”

“Gentle him,” The omega says. “Just as you would any other time. Do what feels right. When he’s calm enough, I can examine him. He needs that shoulder popped back in for sure.”

“Stiles has never been the type to be gentled.” His mate responds. “I haven’t actually had any real luck with that since we were kids.”

“What did you when you were kids and he was afraid?” The omega prompts.

His mate is silent for a moment. “I talked to him.” His mate finally says quietly. “I would put my hand over his eyes to block out all the excess stimulation and talk to him.”

“Well, you should try that now.” The omega says. “If he gets close to your scent he should submit instinctually.”

“It was different then.” His mate says.

“How?” The omega asks.

His mate pauses for a moment. “Back then, when I used to talk to him, he believed what I said.”

“Mr. Hale- Derek, this is your wife. More than that, even; he is your bondmate.” The omega says. “These things don’t happen by accident. They don’t even happen without intent. In order for a bond like this to form one or both of you must have wanted that kind of connection- if only subconsciously.”

“We... we’ve had trouble connecting as adults.” His mate says. “Always. I always want to be with him.” His mate looks thoughtful, dark. “I don’t know how.”

“He needs you right now.” The omega says. “And if you are bonded like this, it’s likely he always needs you.”

He can feel his mate turn his eyes on him. He hunches over, trying to make himself small, trying to make himself disappear. He is afraid of his mate’s anger. Afraid his mate will leave him again. Afraid his mate will touch him. God, he needs his mate to touch him though.

“Who could do this to you?” His mate says lowly. “Who could do this to my Stiles?”

_“To feel your touch again, we’ve never been away...”_

His mate is moving towards him, low and powerful. He bares his teeth and growls in his throat- a warning. His mate needs to stay away. He doesn’t want to be hurt again and he will fight his mate if he has to. His mate is not intimidated, he does not slow his advance. He growls back, his scent deepening with aggression and dominance. The omega meets his mate’s eyes dead on, an open challenge. He bares his sharp little teeth and hisses menacingly. He is not about to show weakness, even to his mate, he’s lost too much already. His mate cages him in, cornering him with his massive body, his scent filling everything in the omega. The omega circles back and tries to pass him, his eyes low to the ground but burning with anger. His efforts are met with a deep snarl from his mate. Desperate, the omega strikes out with his uninjured arm, but the attack is weak and so is he. All at once his mate is touching him, strong arms capturing his injured broken body, firm enough to exert dominance, but gentle enough not to hurt. The omega squirms, lashing out in panic, but his mate won’t let him go. He makes a deep rumbling growl, and one massive, warm hand comes up covering the omega’s eyes, effectively downing out the harsh light, leaving only the feeling of his mate’s solid warmth against his aching body, his mate’s scent all around him.

_"You feel so good as if you'd never been away, your breath so warm, your touch so sure..."_

The omega lets out a choked sob of desolation and longing. _Let me go. Let me go. Let me go._ To have his mate so close, touching him, rubbing gentle soothing circles down his back after the nightmare he’s been through is too much. He wants to beg, wants to submit, wants to roll on his back and be good. Just want his mate to take the pain away. His mate is speaking softly into his ear now, his deep voice familiar and his whole world. He whispers so softly only the omega can hear him

“Stiles,” His mate says, the words still meaningless to the omega. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here now. You know who I am, Stiles. Come back to me. I’m here now and they can’t hurt you. Please come back to me.”

The alpha wants submission, is demanding it. The omega feels himself being manhandled into the alpha’s lap, but he still fights, though weakly. The alpha’s scent is beautiful and his heartbeat is strong and familiar, but the omega doesn’t trust him, something is still holding him back. He hurts so much. _Let me go. Let me go. Let me go._

The alpha’s breath is on his neck, and he feels the alpha delivering a strong bite to his mating scar. The omega feels his whole body go limp, the fight slowly draining from him.

He blinks up at the alpha, his vision slowly clearing, but he finds he’s crying.

“Derek?” Stiles breathes.

“Hey buddy.” Derek says, reaching down to caress his cheek.

Stiles turns away, hiding his tears in Derek’s shirt. “Why didn’t they just kill me?” He asks.

"Oh Stiles," Derek buries his head in Stiles hair.


	52. The Herd in the Room

"Dude. Shut your face!" Stiles laughs. His ribs are cracked and it hurts like hell but he doesn't even care. He's half sprawled over Derek's solid warmth, locked in the Hale's penthouse. Apparently, Warren's penthouse was is enemy territory to Derek's stupid caveman brain. Stiles is pretty sure he got carried there like so much luggage almost immediately after Dr. Bergman, the omega doctor Warren called, got done checking him over and popping his dislocated shoulder back in place. It all had hurt like a motherfucker, and his body still aches all over, but Derek had placed his wide, warm hand over his eyes the whole time and murmured softly in his ear, and it had been so much like whenever Stiles had fallen and gotten scraped knees as a kid he almost didn't care.

"I will when you learn how." Derek laughs, his breath hitting Stiles right behind the ear, a patch of skin that is particularly sensitive. They're propped up on a nest of pillows and Stiles is half on Derek's lap, the back of his head tucked under Derek's neck. The alpha has one broad arm swung around Stiles chest, gently enough not to hurt his bruised body, but the message is still obvious to Stiles' omega brain- he's not going anywhere. There's no real threat of that, though. Stiles' whole body is a mess of bruises and scrapes and one of his eyes is completely swollen shut. Both of his lips are split in multiple places and he doesn't know how in God's name he still has all of his teeth. It hurts to laugh. It hurts to smile and yet somehow in some impossible way he can't help himself.

"Yeah, we all know that's going to happen." Stiles rolls his good eye, resting his head against Derek's chest with a smirk.

"Here, I'll help." Derek laughs, taking a ripe strawberry from the plate on the bedside table and all but cramming it in Stiles' mouth.

Stiles looks up indignantly, juice dripping down his mouth. "You fucker!" He says, laughing even as he's trying to glare at Derek.

"I'm just trying to help." Derek grins evilly down at him through his long lashes and Stiles can't even be mad. Damnit. "Here," Derek says, leaning down and swiping his broad thumb over the corner of Stiles' mouth where the juice is dribbling out. He wipes up the juice and then sucks it off his thumb with a low smile, before going back down for the other side of Stiles' mouth.

"Derek!" Stiles laughs and tries to squirm away as much as his ribs will let him. "Stop it! That's gross."

"You're gross." Derek says with faux-petulance around his thumb.

"Your spit is all over my face, dude!" Stiles exclaims, wiping his mouth carefully with a reproachful gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Derek says with a wicked grin. "Let me make it better." The alpha playfully bends down and licks Stiles' indignant jaw playfully.

"You are disgusting." Stiles says, but the effect is lost due to his laughter.

This whole thing is actually pretty disgusting, if Stiles is honest with himself. He's not exactly sure how he went from all but nailing this whole adulthood thing for the first time in his pathetic life; you know- giving up his ridiculous childhood infatuation with somebody else's husband, moving on to an alpha who is actually emotionally available, getting out and doing something about his own problems, his inbred fears and the patriarchy be damned- to pretty much back at square one, laid up in Derek's bed allowing the alpha to gentle him and take care of him and get in his space and touch him like this isn't every single bad idea Stiles has ever had rolled into some kind of emotional wet dream.

The thing is, Stiles has forgotten in the wake of the new laws and their short but disastrous marriage how easy it can be with Derek, how good it feels just to be with him, to hear him laugh. The way Derek looks at him too, like Stiles is singular, like Stiles is his- it's dangerously comfortable. It’s absurdly right.

Derek grabs another strawberry off the plate and takes a bite, he offers it to Stiles' lips, and the omega takes a bite out of the half-eaten piece of fruit, chewing it pensively, his heavy head resting back on Derek's chest, listening to the alpha's steady breathing. Derek finishes off the berry and reaches for another one. They go through the whole plate that way in an oddly companionable silence, their bodies in a sort of blissful synchronicity, Derek carefully watching Stiles to see when he's ready for another bite, Stiles allowing himself to be cared for like he has any right to that kind of Derek's attention. When they're done, Derek tenderly wipes Stiles' mouth with a napkin and holds a glass of water to the omega's lips.

It’s easy and natural, like they’ve done this a thousand times before. Like they’re just an omega and an alpha sitting in the security of an almost twenty year relationship. Like Stiles isn’t a ‘me’ but one half of a ‘we’ again. Willfully ignorant. They aren’t talking about their marriage or Derek’s first (his real,) marriage. They’re not running a game plan on how best to once again explain the inexpiable to Cambria. They’re not talking about how Stiles ruined their friendship by goading Derek into fucking him. They’re not fighting about the way Stiles left. They’re not even discussing the horrific event of violence that brought Derek back to his side to begin with. They are simply feeling the weight and heat of each other’s bodies, letting their shared scent infuse their skin and clothes. There is a whole herd of elephants in the room they could and should be discussing, but they're just... not. And Stiles is hit with a wave of inexplicable gratitude. He knows Derek isn’t his to keep, isn’t his at all really, but he also knows he was hurting and terrified and he’s just so damn grateful to be here again, safe- if only for a moment, in Derek’s presence.

He rests back on Derek, the alpha’s left hand intertwining with his own. Stiles pulls Derek’s right hand up with his more slender fingers and lazily mouths at the alpha’s thumb, a primitive part of him needing to have part of Derek inside him. They lay like that, together living a lie that feels more truthful than their separate waking lives.

 _Somebody please. Please give me the fucking strength to leave you again, Derek._ Stiles thinks, nosing at the alpha’s chest. _So you won’t have to leave me._

The pair are startled from their by an intense rattling on the locked penthouse door. Stiles instinctively jumps up and away, as if Derek’s body burns. Nobody can see them, but he’s pretty sure whatever he was just doing isn’t allowed. Derek isn’t on board with Stiles’ line of thinking. He grabs Stiles gently and pulls him back to his chest.

“Derek!” Lydia’s voice is commanding as she continues to bang on the door with relish. “Derek you open up right now! Stuff is happening and we need a strategy ASAP!”

“Shit!” Derek hisses almost silently, looking at Stiles, wide-eyed. “It’s Lydia!”

“Derek! I know you’re in there!” Lydia calls. “Shit is going down. This is me officially yelling, ‘timber!’ You better move! Now!”

“What do we do?” Stiles whispers back.

“Get her to go away!” Derek hisses.

“Me?!” Stiles mouths. “She’s your... thing!”

“She knows me way too well.” Derek whispers furiously. “She won’t buy it from me!”

“Derek!” Lydia continues, sounding like the wrath of hell wrapped up in one miniscule woman.

Stile rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you hire more incompetent people?” He turns towards the door and calls in an exaggeratedly high voice. “Uh... Housekeeping!”

“Derek that’s not funny!” Lydia calls back. “You and Stiles get your asses out here or I’m calling Talia!”

Stiles stares back at Derek, wide-eyed. “See?” He hisses.

“Just keep at it!” Derek mouths frantically.

“There’s no one here by that name!” Stiles calls in the same high voice. “Just housekeeping!”

“Derek, we both know you’re a terrible actor! I’m not playing around!” Lydia snarls.

“I’m cleaning up vomit!” Derek calls out in an even more terrible approximation of a female than Stiles’ impression.

Stiles jabs Derek hard with his uninjured foot, staring at him incredulously.

“Hey!” Derek hisses.

“What?!” Lydia all but screeches.

“Have you lost your brain?!” Stiles hisses back.

“What am I supposed to do?” Derek mouths back, throwing up his hands. “She is way smarter than both of us!”

“Have you lost your brain?” Stiles repeats.

Derek shrugs.

“Don’t come in here!” Stiles calls in his falsetto again. “There’s bed bugs and... E coli.”

“The fuck?!” Derek mouths at Stiles. The omega shrugs.

“Oh my God.” Lydia groans. “You morons have three hours, then I’m coming in there so help you God!” There’s the sound of her heels clicking away in the hall.

“What the hell was that?!” Derek rounds on Stiles. “E. coli?”

“It was better than you.” Stiles shrugs. "What the hell was that?"

“Where the fuck is _your_ brain?” Derek asks.

“Look, if you don’t like the way I carry out your crap schemes-“ Stiles starts.

“You kicked me!” Derek interrupts incredulously.

“I did not kick you.” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“You kicked me.” Derek repeats.

“I can’t even stand.” Stiles says. “You made me lie to Lydia! That woman could make me into a hat!”

“I did not make you lie- I told you to get rid of her.” Derek says.

“You made me lie to the scariest five feet of anything on the planet.” Stiles says crossly. “Like it’s my fault you’re surrounded by bullshit staff. And you let her give me a haircut. And you let Laura put a tiara on me. And you let people take pictures of me in said tiara. And you made me marry your dumb ass.”

Derek sighs. “Look, I’m sorry about Lydia. And I’m sorry she and my sister cramped your style.”

“You’re sorry they cramped my style and then documented it.” Stiles corrects.

“Yeah, that.” Derek sighs. “But I’m not sorry about marrying you. That was for your own good. Dipshit.”

“Okay.” Stiles acquiesces, leaning back down against Derek’s chest again. "Yeah. Probably." He sighs. "I'm sorry I kicked you."

"You should be." Derek smiles.

"But you were terrible, right?" Stiles says.

Derek settles his arms loosely around Stiles again, grinning. "I was golden."

Stiles snorts and this, taking Derek's larger hand again and bringing it to his mouth again. "A golden raspberry, maybe." He mutters.

Derek looks down to where Stiles is casually mouthing at his knuckles with a sort of plesantly bemused expression on his face. Stiles notices him look and scowls back, biting down a bit on his hand.

Derek closes his eyes. "You are an unholy menace." He groans.

Stiles blinks up at his friend, smirking. "Problem?"

Before Derek can answer there is another knock on the door. This time Derek doesn't even try any tricks.

"Oh my God!" He yells from the bed. "Lydia, I swear to Christ my daughter better be on fire-"

"It's Dr. Bergman." A spooked-sounding voice calls back. "Just checking in."

"I'm coming!" Derek says begining to slide out from under Stiles.

Stiles grabs Derek's arm. "What are you doing?"

Derek looks down at him. "I'm letting the doctor in."

Stiles makes a face. "I hate doctors. You know this about me."

"Tough." Derek says and steps towards the door.

"You suck and you're a Judas!" Stiles calls after him.


	53. The Inconvenient Truth

“How are you doing?” Dr. Bergman smiles kindly as he enters the room, looking at the alpha and the not lucid omega closely. 

Stiles twists his lips a little. Another person in the room is suddenly a stark and unwelcome reminder of reality. This new coming brings with him a flood of everything that lays behind Stiles and Derek theses last few weeks- and what little the two of them have left.

“I’ve been better.” Is all the omega says, subconsciously pulling the blankets of Derek’s bed tighter around him. 

“And you, Derek?” Bergman queries. 

The alpha walks over and crawls back onto the bed, settling back in close to Stiles. Derek’s body moves naturally, like this is all easy for him. Almost as if getting closer to an omega who isn’t his real wife is totally expected. Like this is normal.

“The same.” The alpha says, curling one of his hands on Stiles’ thigh, looking at the omega appraisingly. Stiles only curls ever more inwards on himself. There is something about Derek touching him in front of other people that only highlights how very wrong it is. 

“I must say, you both look infinitely better from the last time I saw you.” The doctor notes pleasantly, as if this is all par for the fucking course. “It would behoove you both to be kinder on yourselves.” 

“I’ve been laid up for the last twenty-four hours.” Stiles rolls his eyes, not even noticing the way he’s folded his arms in front of his body. “Trust me, I’ve been taking it real easy.” The omega’s voice is light, confident in a way his posture and the slightly nervous movement of his body is not. 

“Glad to hear it.” The doctor says, peering at him in a way that only makes Stiles more self-conscious. “You should continue to rest. No doubt the presence of your alpha will help enormously to speed your recovery, but you two shouldn’t tax yourselves, or each other after a feral episode like that one.” 

Stiles looks over at Derek with a funny expression. “Is something wrong with you? Did something happen in the last few weeks?” 

“No, Stiles.” Derek assures him, rubbing soothing circles on his leg, moving closer to his hunched omega, his voice lower, radiating calm. “I’m just fine.” 

“I was referring to your mating bond, of course.” Bergman says, continuing clinically. “For future reference, isn’t good for either of you to be away from each other for such a long time. Dangerous of course for an omega to go unprotected, as you unfortunately found out, Stiles, but I was also quite certain for a moment there that Derek was about to go feral as well.” 

“Our mating what’s it?” Stiles’ head jerks up and he stares at the doctor, his eyes confused. 

“Your bond.” Dr. Bergman repeats. “With your husband.” He motions to Derek like Stiles is a little slow. “If you only recently consummated your relationship it’s no wonder you were so vulnerable to a feral episode after being apart from him.” 

“I think you’re confused.” Stiles says quickly, straightening all at once, his mouth moving quickly. “I’m not his wife.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Bergman looks confused. “I was under the impression that the two of you had recently gotten married.” He looks questioningly over at Derek. 

“Well yeah,” Stiles says, his voice getting faster and faster. “But not really. I mean we really got married- yes. But Derek’s been married to someone else for like ten years. We only got married because we had to. We’re not... like that!” Stiles is tripping over is words in an effort to explain, his hands are moving now in anxious gesticulations as if he’s trying to use charades on top of his harried rambling. 

Derek just looks down and away, his mouth setting deep in a grim expression. 

“Regardless of the circumstances of your marriage, Stiles, I can tell you as a medical professional Derek is indeed your alpha.” Dr. Bergman says, looking serious. “Some part of you at least identifies him as such so vehemently, he was the only one able to pull you out of your feral episode.” The doctor looks at them both, hard. “Of course I do not believe you would have fallen into one to begin with had your bond not been under serious stress in the first place.” Dr. Bergman sighs. “I believe you both have been suffering from Bond Separation Syndrome.” 

“What bond?!” Stiles squeaks out. “We’re friends- yes! We’ve been friends for a long time. But Derek and I aren’t like, a couple. We’ve never been like that! I have never been his omega and he’s never been my alpha.” 

“And yet you entered a sexual relationship.” Dr. Bergman raises his eyebrows. 

“No.” Stiles says, looking down and flushing slightly, his mouth still going a mile and minute. “Well, not on purpose. It was like twice. And I think that’s because I made Derek so mad it was either fuck me or kill me.” Stiles looks around incredulously. “It was not like... that.” He shakes his head and repeats almost to himself, “It wasn’t.” 

“The act of physical consummation can insatiate a biological mating bond in alpha/omega couple who are particularly compatible and emotionally dependent.” Dr. Bergman says. “It may not be a conscious choice on either of your parts, but it also doesn’t happen by accident. As I was telling Derek, here, the presence of a bond is a survival reflex. The two of you needed that connection in some way and your instincts reacted in kind.” 

Stiles stares at Derek, his amber eyes wide. “Do you believe this?!” He turns back to the doctor. “I don’t believe it. Mating bonds are a myth made up by romance authors and Hallmark. And the patriarchy!” He looks at the doctor. “I’m not some lovelorn teenager who believes in that shit. And if bonding were even a thing it wouldn’t happen to Derek and me. We are very platonic.” He informs the doctor. Even as he speaks, Stiles follows the doctor’s eyes to where Bergman is looking at Derek’s hand resting on the omega’s thigh. He shrugs Derek’s touch off immediately. 

“You responded quite well to him gentling you.” The doctor notes gently. 

“That’s because he is pushy!” Stiles exclaims, elbowing Derek. “Tell him, Derek. Tell him about Ryanne. You have a wife!” 

Derek doesn’t speak for an impossibly long moment. The alpha’s eyes are downcast, staring at his own hand, where it was previously rubbing gentling circles on the omega’s thigh. Stiles is about to open his mouth and start trying to babble at the doctor again, try to make the man see reason when Derek looks up.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He finally says and his voice is strained, low as if he has to pull every word from his gut, bloody and half. “At all really. I’ve been so worried about him.” Derek’s pained eyes turn to Stiles and the alpha’s expression hits the omega like a blow to his windpipe. “About you.” Derek shakes his head. “I can’t think about anything but you. I can’t eat. I can’t focus. I can’t do anything but think about you. If you’re eating and sleeping. If you’re okay. What you’re doing. If you’re safe-“

“Derek-“ Stiles says abruptly, reaching out for the alpha’s shoulders, unable to hear the pained words of his friend. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you for a few hours, but I’m okay. They found me. Look at me- I’m just a little bruised up. I’m fine.” 

Derek shakes his head even as Stiles is speaking, “No.” He says. He looks over Stiles’ shoulder at Bergman. “Not just since yesterday. I didn’t... I mean, I didn’t even know he had been attacked until I got to the hotel room.” He shuts his eyes and then opens them again, looking at the doctor for understanding. “I haven’t been able to sleep since he left.” 

Stiles feels his arms fall away from Derek’s shoulders as he takes in the alpha’s tortured expression. He slides back and down numbly, sinking into the pillows again. 

“Bond Separation Syndrome can be very taxing.” Bergman is the first to speak again. “We’ve found over years of research the strongest alphas form the strongest bonds. You will feel better, Derek when the bond is reaffirmed. You need to be support each other right now. Both of you should normalize once you both get what you need.” 

Stiles feels himself grow colder and colder at the doctor’s words, a terrible sinking feeling of guilt pooling in his stomach. It’s like drowning alive. 

Stiles looks up at the doctor, stricken. “How did this happen? Are we just that unlucky?”

“Bonding has nothing to do with luck, Stiles.” The doctor says. “It is the natural product of the relationship between mates that are particularly reliant upon each other for emotional and physical stability. The need was there, and once the physical aspect of your relationship manifested, your dependence only deepened.” 

“Oh my God.” Stiles breathes, feeling all the blood rush from his body. He stares down, unseeing. He’s known for years, felt it deep inside like a bone ache how he’s needed Derek, how he’s missed the alpha, how he is so hungry, so needy for Derek’s touch, for his attention and affection, but he’d never once thought his own selfish feelings would come back to hurt Derek in such a way. Stiles had always thought this emotional stress, this internal torture would remain one sided. Knowing now he’d managed to get them bonded and cause Derek this kind of suffering, however inadvertent is some kind of nightmare. Stiles is all at once overcome with guilt and shame, running hot and cold and terrible all over him. 

“You’re going to be just fine.” Bergman says comfortingly. “Both of you. I must recommend you spend some more time together, particularly as Stiles is physically still recovering from his attack. The proximity to each other will reaffirm the bond. You both have suffered quite a shock these last few days. I’m sure your bodies are still unstable. You will normalize once your systems realize you’re not going to be separated again.” 

“No!” Stiles looks up sharply, and both Derek and Bergman stare at him. “No.” Stiles repeats, shaking his head vehemently, his body moving away, sliding off the bed even as he speaks. “We can’t reaffirm this thing. We can’t risk this sticking any more.” He looks at Bergman with an almost wild desperate look in his eyes. “You can break this can’t you? I mean, this isn’t going to stick forever. There’s got to be a way to break the bond.” 

“You want to break your bond?” Bergman asks, genuinely surprised. “Why on earth would you want to do a thing like that? I’ve never even read of such a thing. You two are very fortunate. The children of bonded couples are historically strong, healthy children.”

“Derek doesn’t want anymore children.” Stiles says immediately. 

“Who told you that?” Derek asks. “I want more kids.” 

“This... we... I mean, he’ll get over it, right?” Stiles says, as if he didn’t even hear Derek. He’s looking at the doctor, his eyes a little manic. “If I’ll leave he’ll eventually go back to normal, right?” 

“Physically, I suppose it’s entirely possible.” Bergman says. “But this is highly irregular-“

“But it can be done, right?” Stiles says. “I mean, he’s going to be okay.” 

“Stiles, I think you’re still suffering from the trauma you recently experienced.” Bergman says. “I think you need to calm down. Let Derek gentle you. It’s not good for you to get so excited in your current state.” 

“Stiles,” Derek starts, reaching for the omega, his eyes worried. 

Stiles holds out a hand, warding the alpha away. “I promise you, I’m fine.” 

Bergman stands up. “I don’t think we should discuss this any further until you’re feeling better, Stiles. Professionally, I can’t recommend you be away from Derek right now. I think you’ll feel better about this once the shock of the violence you just experienced wears off.” He turns to leave. “I’ll be in touch. Lay low and call if anything comes up.” 

Derek rises, reaching for a shirt and pulling it on. “I’ll see you out.” He turns to Stiles. “Stay here.” He says. 

Stiles glares down at the bed. 

Once outside in the hall, the doctor turns to the troubled alpha. “Don’t worry.” Bergman says with a sympathetic smile. “He’s just stressed. He’s not going to leave you.”

Derek frowns deeply, shoving his hands in his sweat pants pockets. “He leaves all the time.” He says. “How do you think we got in this mess in the first place?”

“Well, maybe you two should talk about that.” Bergman says. “Omegas- particularly bonded omegas don’t just leave without serious reasons.” 

“He never tells me shit anymore.” Derek looks down darkly. He looks back towards the door. “I better go. He’s probably halfway out the window by now.” 

Bergman raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t say anything more.


	54. The Last Ten Years

Stiles hears Derek enter the room, feels his presence and smells the slight shift in his scent. The alpha’s aroma is like a living, breathing conscious thing to Stiles. He feels it reach out to him, firm but questioning. The smell is as familiar to the omega as his own, more so even because he’s spent hours focusing on it, noticing it, memorizing every subtle shift, every indescribable detail, and even more hours recalling it while he tried to sleep, alone in ten million strange beds. The amount of love and pure adoration Stiles has for that scent and the alpha it represents only drives Stiles deeper into pure, free falling despair. Once again, he is at a loss. You’d think that after years of fucking up, after countless personal failures, after incident after incident of Stiles ability to cope, to do the right thing when it came to Derek, it would start to hurt less. You’d think he’d have developed callouses by now. As it is all Stiles feels is raw. Another layer of skin scraped off, leaving him even more bloody and deformed and defenseless. It’s only when Derek’s hand reaches out and gently touches his back that Stiles realizes he’s sobbing. 

The omega flinches away from Derek’s hand. He looks up, his large omega eyes filled with ugly, hot tears, his whole body heaving with uncontrollable shakes and sobs. 

“Don’t touch me.” He says, blinking at the alpha, his whole body coiled and filled with devastation. 

He can’t see Derek through his tears, but he hears his voice. “Stiles.” His name on the alpha’s lips is like a caress, an invitation.

Stiles looks into his friend’s eyes and he’s suddenly struck with a very physical sensation of the worst kind of longing. It feels like chemical with drawl, like the sharp edge of systematic starvation, a need that is akin to dying. It would be so easy to give in, to shamelessly beg for what he doesn’t have. Stiles wants to reach out for Derek. He knows Derek would take him into his strong familiar arms. Stiles knows Derek would crush him to his chest and let him cry. He knows the alpha would sooth him and gentle him and protect him. When hasn’t Derek given Stiles that when Stiles has been this pitiful? The man isn’t heartless. It would be easy to prey on Derek’s over-developed sense of responsibility, to bury Stiles’ tear-soaked face into the alpha’s strong warm neck and beg him to take him back to Derek’s comfortable luxurious home, back to Derek’s safe bed. Stiles could promise to be good, he could promise to be the perfect second wife and defer to Ryanne, to be quiet and content, to know his place. He could trade his dignity, his sanity for whatever Derek scraps is willing to throw at him. He reach out for the alpha’s cock right now, pull it out and suckle it, learning the taste and weight of it the way he’s always longed to- he knows Derek would let him. He knows Derek would fuck him again right now if that’s what the alpha thought he needed, and God if Stiles doesn’t need that. Stiles would be so good for him, make Derek feel so good, if only it would elevate this pressing horrid emptiness in Stiles. He knows Derek doesn’t find him completely physically repulsive, and if the alpha does, Stiles knows Derek’s sense of loyalty far overrides that. Stiles could pull off what little clothes they have between them and feel the ultimate comfort of Derek pressing him into the mattress, gentling his bruised, tortured body in the best way possible. Stiles could probably even get Derek to knot him. 

But Stiles made a decision, and Stiles loves Derek. He decided not to hurt Derek anymore and he won’t. 

Derek reaches out and cups Stiles’ jaw. His next words sound as tortured as Stiles feels. 

“You going to talk to me, Stiles?” 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says. It’s a confession. He deserves punishment for what he’s done to Derek and he knows it’s coming. Doing the right thing has consequences. He lays his head back down, sinking into the bed, sobbing. “I’m so sorry.” 

Stiles hears Derek take a short, sharp inhale above him. It sounds pained as if he’s been stabbed. 

“You need to talk to me, Stiles.” Derek says. “And no more talking around things. I want the truth. Whatever you have to say, just... stop this. I can’t... I can’t keep doing this.” 

“I know.” Stiles says miserably. “I know. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I swear. I never meant for this to happen.” 

“You’ve made that pretty clear.” Derek sounds a little angry now. 

“I know.” Stiles says. “I know. I never should have come home. I never should have ... I’m sorry.” He sobs a little harder. “I didn’t know.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Derek sighs. 

“You always say that.” Stiles says, miserable. “Stop lying to both of us Derek! I fucked us over and now you hate me and I’ve been trying so hard to keep that from happening.” 

“Why would you think I hate you?” Derek asks, and he sounds genuinely confused. “I mean, I’m upset with you. When you started going through BSS symptoms you should have come home. You should have let me help you.”

“I didn’t know about the bond, Derek.” Stiles says. “Honest, I didn’t. I didn’t think you’d be affected-“ 

“How could I not be affected?” Derek snaps. “These last few weeks have been hell. I can only imagine what sort of shit you’ve been putting yourself through because you’re too fucking stubborn to admit you need me. I know how you are, Stiles. If I’ve been up all night, you’ve been ten times worse. Why didn’t you just come home weeks ago?” 

“I didn’t know!” Stiles says with even more vehemence. “I always feel this way! How was I supposed to have guessed something changed with you? It’s been the same with me for ten goddamn years! I never once dreamed you’d be affected too! I didn’t know I could set off a bond.” Stiles shakes his head again. “I’m sorry!”

“What the hell do you mean?” Derek stares at him. “How could you not notice?” 

“I always need you like this.” Stiles says, choking on the words. “I know we’re friends and I know you don’t want me like that. I’ve always known that. I know you’re married. I just... I couldn’t help it. I didn’t think you’d ever find out.” He looks up at Derek, tears running down his face. “I’m so sorry. I just love you so much. I couldn’t help it. I tired, I really did.” Derek just stares at him, seemingly dumbstruck, so Stiles continues with his hellish confession, trying to get it all out while he has the nerve. “I know I shouldn’t have come home. I was just so... scared and I wanted to see you so badly. I know I should have stayed away. This is my fault, Derek. I knew if I came home, you’d go all alpha because you’re so loyal and you’ve always been such a good friend. I knew you’d try to take care of me and I didn’t know what else to do. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to marry you. I knew you were fucking up your whole life because of me, but I couldn’t say no and...” He looks up, heartbroken. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just... you were mine for a little while and I’ve wanted that for so long. I didn’t know how to stop it..” He looks down. “I made you marry me and this is all my fault.” 

“I didn’t marry you because I had to.” Derek says and his voice sounds strained. 

“The laws-“ Stiles starts.

“Yeah, the laws were convenient.” Derek says. “And they were a good catalyst, but I’d been trying to get you to come home for years, Stiles. God, don’t you think there were a million other ways to get around the laws other than marrying me? We could have hidden you, we could have married you to my sister, we could have done anything else. But I didn’t want to. And don’t you think I know you didn’t want to marry me? I thought I was going to have to haul you down the aisle myself. I just... I married you because I thought if you came home and you saw how good it could be between us, if you really spent time with me again I could show you how good I could be for you. I thought maybe if I could just get you to marry me and you saw how much I loved you, maybe you’d stay.” Derek reaches out and cups Stiles’ head with both hands. “Stiles, you’ve been my omega since the day I met you. You’ve been it for me since I was seven years-old.” 

“That’s just the bond talking.” Stiles sniffs, trying to avoid another torrent of tears. “All those hormones...” 

“If we’re bonded for a reason it’s because I need you.” Derek says firmly. “Because I’ve always needed you and it drives me crazy that I can’t be there with you, the way an alpha is supposed to be with his omega, all the time.” Derek shakes his head. “I don’t know where you ever got the idea that I didn’t want you.” 

“Maybe when you started courting another omega and then married him?” Stiles asks. “Because that definitely happened.”

“Okay, the only omega I ever courted was you.” Derek says. “And when you left, I was ten years into that process.” 

“When I left you were newly engaged.” Stiles says. “So don’t give me that bullshit.” 

“Yes, I was.” Derek agrees. “I was young and I was stupid and I was at a total loss as to what to do about an omega who I had on good authority would never love me the way I loved him.” Derek sighs. “I know this isn’t an excuse, but I was a little crazy and I wasn’t thinking straight. You were pulling away from me- even before you left, even before I got engaged, you were pulling away from me. And it felt like every time I tried to pull you back and get closer to you, the more you’d pull away. It was like you were running from me and it felt pretty obvious that you were uncomfortable about my attention.” 

“I was studying my ass off trying to finish school so you could be proud of me!” Stiles says. “Here you were with your senator mom and your accomplished sisters and every statesman in the country parading their omega kids around in front of you and I was just a delinquent skinny nobody with a big mouth. I thought maybe if I could make something of myself, you’d maybe see that I could fit in your world. Maybe you wouldn’t leave me. When you went and got engaged to Ryanne I realized how stupid I’d been. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I studied or how much I changed for you, I’d never be like him. I’d never be some beautiful, polished omega with connections who could be a great wife to you.” 

“I didn’t want him.” Derek says. “I didn’t love Ryanne.”

“Derek,” Stiles shakes his head, staring the alpha in the eyes. “You asked him to marry you. Nobody forced you to do that.” Stiles takes in a breath. “I don’t blame you for loving somebody else and I don’t blame you for loving him. He’s beautiful and gracious and-“ 

“It wasn’t like that.” Derek says, his eyes pleading. “I was so... lost. And young. I stupidly thought maybe you’d pay attention to me if we got engaged. I wanted a family. Everyone was expecting me to start my career and have an heir. I thought if you’d ever loved me or if you ever could love me... I don’t know.” Derek sighs, closing his eyes. “I was so stupid. I thought maybe, just maybe if I got engaged you’d stop me. I thought you’d tell me you loved me.” 

“I left and you still got married.” Stiles points out. 

“I was that stupid.” Derek grimaces. “I kept hoping you’d come home. Up until the day of the wedding I kept waiting for you to come back. I kept thinking you’d come in and this would all be like a bad dream.” Derek opens his eyes. “You never came. So I thought it was over. I married Ryanne because it seemed like it would make my family happy even if I never could be.” 

“How could you do that?” Stiles asks. “I don’t buy it, Derek. You loved him. You love him. You saw some omega that fit what you always wanted and you fell in love and you married him. It’s not a crime. You might as well be honest. I was honest with you.” 

“You want honest?” Derek says, his eyes flashing. He reaches out and puts his hands on Stiles shoulders. “I never loved him. I never loved Ryanne- not like you. And he knew it.” Derek sighs. “And maybe it was a shitty thing to do, to marry him anyways, but I told him I loved you. Before we got engaged and then before we got married. I told him I would never stop loving you.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” Stile says. “And I’m sure Ryanne just took that happily. Be real, Derek.” 

“I don’t know what he thought.” Derek says. “I just know what I told him and that he married me anyways.” 

“He probably thought you’d never marry an omega you didn’t love.” Stiles says. “I know that’s what I thought.” 

“I was eighteen, Stiles.” Derek says. “I was eighteen and my best friend, my omega had just walked out on me. Did I make a bad decision? Yes.” Derek touches Stiles’ cheek. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but thinking you didn’t want me and would never want me hurt me so badly. I’ve always been lost without you.” He reaches out and pulls Stiles to his chest. “I don’t know what to tell you. Just please. Please don’t leave me again.”


	55. The Light Turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yD99xpvrSoY

Derek pulls back, stroking Stiles’ hair, his omega’s beautiful face. Stiles is staring back at him with an unreadable expression. He’s looking at Derek unblinkingly, as if he’s just seen the sun for the first time. 

“What are you thinking?” Derek asks, his voice soft, almost a caress. “Tell me.”

Stiles blinks and looks down as if he’s coming out of a trance. “Nothing.” The omega says quickly. 

“When in your life has that ever been true?” Derek smiles ruefully. “You always have at least three things going on in your head at once.” He runs his fingers down Stiles’ neck. “Tell me.” He prompts again.

Stiles turns and sits, looking away from the alpha. “What do you expect me to say?” He asks, his voice soft. 

“You could tell me you love me too.” Derek says, reaching out and touching the omega’s shoulder. 

Stiles reaches up as if he’s about to lay his hand over Derek’s and then drops it again. 

The omega closes his eyes. “Of course I love you.” 

“Then what is it, Stiles?” Derek asks. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just...” Stiles starts and then shuts his mouth again. “I never planned for this.” He looks over his shoulder to Derek, shaking his head. 

“I never thought you’d love me either.” Derek says, reaching for him. Stiles shifts slightly out of reach. “I never let myself hope.” Derek’s face is filled with longing. “Stiles, please. Don’t freeze me out again. Talk to me.” 

“What do you expect me to say, Derek?” Stiles asks, looking wrecked, lost. 

“Anything.” Derek says, hating the distance between them. He wants to go over and gentle Stiles, to hold him, to know they’ll never be apart again. “Just talk to me.” 

“Warren has asked me to marry him.” Stiles says, staring at Derek with that cryptic look. 

“What?!” Derek’s jaw drops and he feels the floor fall out of his stomach. All at once it feels as though all the oxygen is being sucked from the room and all Derek can feel is a distinct clawing agony in his gut at the words. 

“I’ve said yes.” Stiles continues in the same measured, tight voice.   
“How could you?” Derek asks, his voice almost a gasp.

“What do you mean-“ Stiles stares at him. 

“You’re married to me.” Derek interrupts, reaching out to the omega.

Stiles holds up a hand as if to physically ward him off. “You’re married to Ryanne.” 

“You’re bonded to me!” Derek counters, his eyes flashing with deep alarm. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine!” 

Stiles looks up at him, stricken. “You’ve never been mine.” He says.

“That isn’t true!” Derek exclaims. 

“It’s true in every way that matters!” Stiles says, his eyes large and filled with turmoil. 

“So my love for you means nothing?” Derek asks, staring down at the omega. 

“Of course it does.” Stiles says, his voice hoarse, little more than a whisper. 

“Then why?” Derek asks, his voice coming out more forcefully than he intended.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles says, his face filled with conflict. “Did you expect me to wait for you?”

“Of course not!” Derek says angrily. 

“Then what?” Stiles demands. 

“I didn’t know you loved me.” Derek says. “I didn’t know having you was an option. But now it is and I’m never going to let that alpha touch you-“ 

“Derek!” Stiles snaps. 

“Either you tell him or I will!” Derek continues. “But he can’t have you.” Derek shakes his head. “I won’t let anyone or anything take you from me! I won’t let it happen!” 

Stiles’ face crumples and for a moment he looks at Derek sadly. “This isn’t your choice.” He says. 

Derek reaches out and pulls Stiles close to him, his hands on either one of his shoulders. He looks down into Stiles’ eyes. “Then tell him you choose me.” 

Stiles looks up at his friend. His eyes fill with tears but he doesn’t look away. At last he says, “I can’t do that.”  
“Why not?” Derek asks, confused and disturbed. 

Stiles pauses for a moment. “He loves me.” He says simply. 

“I love you.” Derek counters. 

Stiles sinks back on his heels, blinking away the tears. When he speaks his voice is barely a whisper. “I wish you didn’t.” 

“How can you say that?” Derek asks, horrified. 

“Because,” Stiles starts. “It would make it easier to let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to go.” Derek says hurriedly. “I want you to stay with me.”

Stiles doesn’t speak.

“Don’t you love me?” Derek asks, feeling himself break apart inside. 

“Of course.” Stiles says. 

“Then why?” Derek asks again. 

“Because my entire life I’ve lived for loving you.” Stiles says. “Every day all I’ve done is think about you and pine for you and try to do everything that I could to be good for you.” He shakes his head. “Every day until I left to be with Warren. And I can’t do it anymore.” He looks up at Derek. “I can’t wait around for you to save me. I can’t sit here and define my life by an alpha- not even you.” 

Derek can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You don’t love him.” He says.

“No.” Stiles admits. “But he loves me. And in a lot of ways that’s better.” 

“How?” Derek crosses his arms.

“I don’t need him.” Stiles says. “And I never want to need someone the way I’ve needed you ever again. If I have to go through that again it will kill me, Derek. The way needing you all these years and not having you has been killing me.” He looks at Derek with a raw desperation. “I can’t do it. Don’t you understand?”

“No.” Derek says. “I don’t. I’ve never understood anything when you’re not with me and I don’t understand you now. You’re making no sense. Do you have any idea how much I love you, Stiles?” 

Stiles puts one hand over his chest. “I think I have an idea.” 

“Then how could you do this to us?” Derek asks. “Are you trying to hurt me? Do you want me to beg? 

“No.” Stiles closes his eyes. “That’s the last thing I want.” 

“Then what?” Derek demands. “Whatever it takes... whatever you want...” He looks at the omega desperately. 

“Go home, Derek.” Stiles says, looking at the alpha through his tears. “Go home to your wife and let me go.” 

“Please don’t make me do this.” Derek says. “Please, Stiles...”

Stiles reaches out and Derek grasps the crying omega tightly, winding his strong arms around his friend’s shoulders, burying his face in Stiles’ hair. Stiles hides his face in Derek’s neck. 

“I love you so much.” The omega whispers. “I love you, Derek.”

“Then stay with me.” Derek pleads. 

“I need to go.” Stiles murmurs back. “There is a law to repeal- more than one. There are things I need to do that I can’t do if I’m obsessed with you.” He looks up at Derek. “You need to let me go.” 

“I love you.” Derek says.

“Then let me go.” Stiles answers. “Let me live. Let me go.”


	56. Ten Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HamTHrxwQI

“Ten years ago a shaky video shot on a cell phone depicting a horrific act of police brutality against a young omega went viral, challenging and changing the public consciousness. Through the initial media blitz that followed the country was to learn that the courageous victim in that video was not out after dark running errands or socializing, but meeting with his fellow omega citizens, collecting stories, fueling a movement, galvanizing hope. That omega was Stiles Stilinski, a young man who is now recognized as this country’s first omega advocate. Following his recovery, Stiles went on to address this body in a speech that rocked a nation. It was the first time an omega victim had not been content to let his alpha protectors speak out for him and what followed was unprecedented. The formerly silent and invisible community of omegas that Stiles had helped build came out of hiding. Through social media campaigns, video testimonials that shot around the world, protests, and hunger strikes, the omega community mobilized around Stiles as he became the face of the omega liberation movement. Together, young and old, rich and poor, omegas of all backgrounds and colors came together to lobby for reform at a federal level. It is amazing that just ten short years later I stand here before this, the greatest legislative body in the world and introduce Stiles Stilinski as the country’s first omega senator. Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, I give you the Junior Senator from California, Stiles Stilinski.”

The applause was deafening as the Speaker of the House introduces Stiles to his colleagues in the senate for the first time. The victory celebrations of the last few months had been nearly surreal as Stiles was invited to high ranking official after high ranking official’s homes. Everyone wanted a photo opt with the new omega senator. He had been to the White House several times throughout the campaign and afterwards. It had been a grueling last decade. Stiles had spent most of his time in grass roots efforts, writing pro-omega articles, making appearances at universities, visiting omega shelters. It had all been good work, but it had been hard work. And it shows.  
Nothing is without cost.

Stiles pauses outside his new office on the hill and looks into the mirror. A long time ago there had been a soft, almost worshipful voice who had whispered into his ear lovingly, telling the omega how beautiful he was. Stiles doesn’t remember being particularly beautiful back in his early youth and he’s certain nobody would make that mistake now. Stiles face is hard lined from nights out protesting in the cold, walking endless miles with picket signs, spending nights in jail for disturbing the peace. Ten years of little sleep, hard living, and ringing doorbells, and yet he looks ten years older than his actual age. No, there is nothing beautiful about the first omega senator. There hasn’t been for a long time.

Stiles walks into his office to see his assistant, a divorced omega named Linda seated at the desk in his outer quarters. He smiles at her and turns to see a beautiful alpha brunette sitting in a chair across from the desk, seemingly waiting for him. The alpha is young with long dark hair that falls in gentle curls around her slender shoulders. She is meticulously fashionable in a Chanel skirt and a crisp Valentino blouse. There is something about the way the young woman adjusts the Kate Spade tote on her shoulder that reminds Stiles instantly of Lydia. The young alpha looks at him keenly, neither smiling nor hostile. Her eyes are intense all the same.

“Senator, this is the young lady here to interview you from Dartmouth.” Linda prompts.

“Oh, yes.” Stiles says, smiling at the seated alpha. “The Dartmouth school paper, right?”

“Yes.” The alpha rises and nods. “I’m doing an article on your first term as senator.” She says.  
Stiles smiles. “I’m afraid there isn’t much of it yet. We only got in session this week. I’m still very much a rookie.”

“Well,” The alpha says, looking up at the taller omega. “I confess my article isn’t the only reason why I’m here.”

“Oh?” Stiles asks, raising his eyebrows. “How can I be of service? Don’t tell me you brought along a lobbyist?” He laughs.

The alpha doesn’t laugh. “Of sorts.” She says. “I’ve brought someone from the private sector who wishes very much to speak with you.”

“I’m afraid I only anticipated meeting with you today, Miss… I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?” Stiles trails off.

“Hale.” A deeper voice and answers and the door to Stiles’ office opens and a broad alpha with dark hair streaked with silver opens the door.

“Derek!” Stiles gasps, staring unbelievingly at the alpha.  
The alpha is every bit as handsome and stately as he is in Stiles’ memory, but years have not been kind to him either. Derek’s face is lined and grey, his eyes are tired.

“Senator.” He nods. He turns to the beautiful young alpha. “Cambria predicted you wouldn’t recognize your own goddaughter.” He says. “She has grown quite a bit, hasn’t she?”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, still in shock. “Your daughter was the last thing I expected to see in my office.” He turns to Cambria. “Look at you. You’re so beautiful.” He turns back to Derek. “She looks like Laura.”

“I got your cards and the gifts, Uncle Stiles.” Cambria says with a bittersweet smile. “I would have sent thank yous, but you never left an address.”

“My office receive the announcement of your graduation and that you were headed to Dartmouth.” Stiles says. “God, I should have put two and two together.” He looks up at Derek.

“What are you doing here?”

“I really am writing an article about you, Uncle Stiles.” Cambria says. “Everyone at school is so excited about the first omega senator.”

“Did you come to introduce me to my goddaughter for the third time?” Stiles asks quietly, looking up at the haggard alpha.

“No.” Derek says, his voice equally quiet. “I came to see how you are.” He glances back into

Stiles office. “To see if you would talk to me, privately. Will you?”

Stiles stares at the alpha for a long moment before nodding and walking into his office. Derek follows him, pulling the door tightly shut. Stiles takes a seat in front of Derek and gestures for the alpha to sit down. Usually so comfortable and easy in meetings, Stiles finds himself self-conscious for the first time in years. He almost bites back an instinct to hide his face, certain the light in the office only makes his graceless aging more apparent. Then he looks across at Derek and sees the alpha’s intense eyes fixed on him like lasers, like he can’t blink, can’t look away.

“She’s lovely, Derek.” Stiles says finally, clearing his throat. “You must be very proud.”

“Time passes slowly.” Derek says. “But she grew up quickly.” He smiles lowly. “The Arizona sun has been good for her, I think.”

Stile swallows, not wanting to ask. “Is that where she grew up?” He looks down at his hands.

“No,” Derek says. “She still went to school here, but she did spend a lot of time there after her mother moved back in when his parents.”

“Ah.” Stiles nods, peering up at Derek. “I read about you divorce.” Stiles swallows again, uncertain. “I’m sorry.”

Derek stares back, looking careworn. Then he smiles, it is bittersweet and a little grim. “It wasn’t your fault.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Not entirely anyways. It was mostly Lydia.”  
Stiles smiles. “It always was.”

“You remember how she is.” Derek shakes his head. “Loyal and protective to a fault. After you left she let me know some very unflattering things about myself- and about Cambria’s mother.”

Stiles looks away, and then back at Derek’s face. “Whatever it was…” He starts and then stops again, his breath halting. “Ryanne loved you, Derek. Whatever he did all those years ago, it was out of love.”

Derek snorts. “You’re far more forgiving than I was.” He looks down, a darkness coming over his eyes. “Than I ever could be.”

Stiles looks at him, his eyes soft. “It’s all in the past now.”

Derek snorts again, looking bitter. “Yes, I see that now.” After a tense silence the alpha looks up again. “I didn’t read about your wedding. I did sign our divorce papers, you know.”

“I know.” Stiles says lightly. “There wasn’t one to read about.”

“What happened?” Derek asks, his voice strained. “He wasn’t good enough for you either?”

“He was a great deal too good for me.” Stiles huffs. He looks down. “He loved me.”

Derek’s voice softens. “I know.”  
“I decided I couldn’t marry him.” Stiles says tightly. He looks up and smiles, laughing at himself a little. “You’ve been my only husband and it’s likely to stay that way.”

“He could have helped you politically.” Derek muses.

“It turns out I didn’t need an alpha’s help.” Stiles smirks a little.

“No,” Derek nods. “You never did. You didn’t even let me fulfill my promise.”

Stiles looks confused. “What promise?”

Derek shrugs. “To repeal the marriage laws. You did that on your own.”

“I didn’t do it on my own.” Stiles shakes his head. “You and Laura and Talia had been angling behind the scenes for months. The senate was ready to make a deal. They just needed a final push from the public. If you hadn’t been wearing them down, what we did wouldn’t have been enough.”

“You changed public opinion.” Derek says. “You gave them someone to look to. You gave a face to a silent, anonymous problem. We both know politicians don’t act unless the public forces them to.”

“You’re not a politician, Derek.” Stiles says, leveling at the alpha. “I know you didn’t come here for political favors. And I’m guessing you didn’t come to regale me on my own history.” He leans back, considering the alpha. “Why are you here?”

Derek looks down, studying his hands, and Stiles notices the way his veins have begun to pop out against the flesh. Finally the alpha says. “I told you why I was here.”

“So I guess you’ve done what you came to do.” Stiles says. “As you can see the years have treated me quite well.” He smirks sarcastically.

“Yes,” Derek agrees, completely sincere in his tone. “Only you could conquer the world and turn it on its head in ten years.”

“You can do a lot when you don’t sleep.” Stiles mutters.

Something in the alpha seems to perk up. He lifts his head and peers at Stiles, leaning forwards cautiously. “Still?” The alpha asks, his query little more than a breath.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks, looking confused.

Derek doesn’t speak for a moment. Finally the alpha raises his eyes and says, “I thought when you left, when the bond broke, you would sleep again.”

Stiles smiles a little to himself. “Time does pass slowly.” He says. “But some things don’t change.” He looks up. “I knew you’d be okay.” Stiles stands up, turning towards the door. “I better speak to Cambria.”

Derek doesn’t move. He simply sits, a black shadow in a mahogany chair, his hand resting against his mouth. Like a statue of onyx, immovable and pensive.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, looking at the back of the alpha’s head. “Is something wrong?”

Derek finally moves, he lets out a short bark of a laugh, or maybe it’s a sob. “How could you even think that?” The alpha asks, his voice low.

“What?” Stiles asks, coming around to face the alpha.

“That I’m okay.” Derek says, his voice halting and thick, he looks up at Stiles. “Why would you...?” He trails off, shaking his head.

Stiles looks down at the alpha. “They told me you would be.” He says simply.

“And you wanted to believe them.” Derek says.

“Of course I did.” Stiles says quickly. “I hate the thought of you hurting.”

Derek is silent for another long moment. “You left me.”

“Yes.” Stiles agrees.

“How was that not going to hurt?” Derek asks.

Stiles closes his eyes. “I thought the pain would be transient.” He says.

“You broke my heart, Stiles.” Derek says. “Not the bond.” The alpha takes in a breath that sounds pains. “My entire life I’ve been stupid when it comes to you.” He says. “I always...” He shakes his head. “Once again, I thought you’d come back. The day after you left I waited for you to come back to the room. Then I waited for a week. Then a year.” He looks down. “Then at some point I saw you on TV. You were so alive. So passionate. I realized that you were okay. That leaving was everything you hoped it would be.” He looks up. “You told me before you left that staying would kill you. You leaving killed me. But if my life was the cost of your happiness, then I give it over. Happily.”

“You’re here.” Stiles says, kneeling in front of the alpha. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see for myself.” Derek says. “I wanted see that you were okay.” He sighs and he sounds infinitely tired and old. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted. But for ten years...” He purses his lips. “It’s been all I could do to not run to your side.”

“And now that you’ve seen me?” Stiles asks, reaching for Derek’s hand.

“My daughter is grown. My sisters are married. My businesses are stable.” Derek says. “And you... you are beautiful.”

Stiles smiles sadly. “Derek,” He says. “I have been twisted, I’ve been battered, I’ve been bent. I’ve never been beautiful.”

“No,” Derek says. “You’ve never been broken.”

Stiles takes Derek’s hand in his and holds it over his heart. “Some things can’t be broken. Some things don’t change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay- we're done here. Check out the new fic, Amber On.


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